ftWi54 



T / 



TRAVELS OF 




AN AMERICAN OWL. 



Travels 



OF AN 



American Owl, 



11 






BY / 
VIRGINIA W. JOHNSON. 



With Sixteen Silhouette Illustrations by Augustus Hoppin^ 
Engraved by Jasper Green. 




/ 



PHILADELPHIA: 
CLAXTON, REMSEN & HAFFELFINGER, 

Nos. 819 AND 821 Market Street. 
1871. 






(5?/i" 




Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by 

CLAXTON, REMSEN & HAFFELFINGER, 

in the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. 



STEREOTYPED BY J. FAGAN &. SON. 



PRINTED BY MOORE BROTHERS. 







^w 



Jnltcaijid 



TC 

COLONEL GEORGE E. CHURCH, 

THE FRIEND WHOSE BRILLIANT AND VIVID DESCRIPTIONS 

OF TRAVEL ARE REPLETE WITH 

VALUABLE SUGGESTIONS. 







CHAPTER I. 

PAGE 

THE OWL FAMILY 13 



CHAPTER n. 

TIB'S YACHT 29 

CHAPTER III. 

THE ROYAL FALCON 35 

CHAPTER IV. 

TIB AT THE GREAT FAIR 45 

CHAPTER V. 

HOW THE PIG AND CROW ENJOYED THEMSELVES 70 

CHAPTER VI. 

THE GOOSE LADY 79 

CHAPTER VII. 

A RAILWAY CARRIAGE 95 



xu 



Contents, 



CHAPTER VIIL 

ADVENTURES OF OWL JUNIOR IN THE CITY OF SILENCE 



PAGE 
. 110 



CHAPTER IX. 

TIB AMONG THE CARDINAL BIRDS 123 



CHAPTER X. 

Boat-race between frogs and toads 



136 



A CHAPTER XL 

THE bird -OF -PARADISE OPENS A new CANAL 1-16 

CHAPTER XII. 

THE OWL RETURNS HOME OVER THE TERRIFIC RAILROAD . . .161 





The Owl Family; Family Discussionsi 



TRAVELS OF AN AMERICAN OWL. 



CHAPTER I. 



THE OWL FAMILY. 




11} was only a barn-yard or screech owl, as his 
family are sonieliines terined, yet this fact made 
no manner of difference to him, since the lower 
his origin the more glory in scaling dazzling heights of 
prosperity by means of his own ability. 

His feathers were of a rusty red color, and his waistcoat 
was, by nature, dingy. He was not at all handsome, cer- 
tainly ; but then beauty is only skin-deep, after all. 

Small and slight of stature, he still had an extremely old 
and sagacious expression of countenance, with a certain 
jaded aspect also, which was suggestive of one already 
weary of the follies of this world, in which he could learn 
nothing new under the sun, having already exhausted the 
pleasures of one planet at so early an age. 

13 



14 Travels of an American Ozvl. 

This was a trick of expression that the young owl 
especially prided himself upon. 

His eye did not kindle or his cheek glow with boyish , 
enthusiasm over field-sports, although he occasionally, 
joined in the national ball-game with considerable spirit, 
because the spice of danger was so tempting, and the prob- 
ability so great that he should be borne from the field 
with a broken leg or shattered ribs. 

Tib was a connoisseur of tobacco and old Bourbon, nor 
was his knowledge of cards less thorough ; the young 
birds who were his companions at a classical fountain of 
learning having always displayed much more ardor in such 
pursuits than imbibing either Greek or Latin ; and yet it was 
not, by any means, unusual for them to require being sent 
home for recreation, owing to impaired eyesight from burn- 
ing the midnight oil. 

Tib was not an ordinary sort of owl ; he was ambitious, 
and before he had tasted the first field-mouse of this life he 
had formed the resolution of travelling abroad, and studying 
the world for himself. 

This resolution was not so much a desire that had 
expanded with his growing nature, as because the other 
fellozvs considered it the proper thing to do, and every 
young bird knows the terrible weight oi \hQ fellows' verdict. ' 

The parent owls, being slow old coaches, were somewhat . 
surprised at their son Tib. (That was his name, and he was 



Travels of an American Owl. 15 

christened after the manner of owls, by having three feath- 
ers plucked from the crown of his head and laid cross-wise 
on a branch, while his parents shrieked the chosen title 
together in chorus. This simple ceremony was easily per- 
formed, and entirely without expense, as the father owl 
justly observed.) 

They talked over the future one fine, dark night in the 
family nest, and one of Tib's uncles was invited to attend 
the council, as he had been blown up, once, on a Missis- 
sippi steamboat, which had gained him great respect in the 
owl community; not because explosions were unusual occur- 
rences on the mighty river, (which is literally paved with 
the dead,) but because of the thrilling description given by 
Tib's uncle of his particular adventure, and the marvellous 
number of passengers he saved by his own astonishing 
bravery. 

" The young 'un wants to travel," remarked Tib's father, 
who was not elegant, for reasons that we shall presently 
learn. " I say, why not live as we have always been con- 
tented to live ? " 

"How can you talk in that way when all young owls 
travel to improve their manners?" said Tib's mamma, 
reproachfully. " If we had to work hard, all the more rea- 
son for his climbing a peg above us." 

" It costs a great deal of money to travel, brother," said 
the uncle, cautiously. 



1 6 Travels of afi Ajnerican Owl. 

"Who cares for the money?" cried the young owl, 
scornfully. 

" Most probably you do not," was the uncle's dry response. 

"I can't be anything without it, and with it I can be 
everything," said the young owl, with that peculiarly hard, 
sage look of his, which has already been mentioned. 

" True," assented the mother, ruffling her soft plumage 
proudly, while she glanced triumphantly at the doubtful 
uncle, with an expression that plainly said : 

" You don't find such an old head on young shoulders 
very often." 

" I wish to be as wise as an owl can possibly be," said 
Tib, eagerly. 

"We are wise enough already," replied the uncle. 

"When I found myself in such peril on the Mississippi 
River, on the occasion when I was blown up, I bitterly 
repented my folly in courting danger among strange scenes, 
instead of remaining quietly at home. We can live in one 
spot, enjoying the reputation our race has already gained for 
wisdom. If it was best you should travel, you would have 
been born a skylark, or a stormy petrel." 

" For that matter, you are not so very safe at home. You 
have only to take your chance of being demolished on the 
Hurry Boats any day, or of getting run over in the crowded 
roads : failing that, the Airy Railroad is still left, as an almost 
sure means of destruction. If you had been to college, you 



Travels of an American Ozvl. ij 

would know more. What an old muff you must be ! " added 
Tib, with that entire absence of respect for the opinions 
of older people which is peculiarly characteristic of Young 
America, and forms a painful contrast with the filial rever- 
ence of other nations. 

The uncle blinked in a dignified manner and made no 
reply. 

"Come, come," said the father owl, interfering hastily, 
for he was the soul of good nature ; " you need n't twit us 
old folks on our larning, just because we hadn't the chances 
you've got. We had to pick up a bit here and there as we 
went along, and if we don't know much about your French 
and dead-language botherations, we can follow the rise of 
stocks pretty cute — eh, Tib ? " and the parent bird chuckled 
mysteriously. 

The truth and satisfaction of this statement Tib was 
quite willing to acknowledge. 

The owl father relished comfort, and certainly he had 
earned it in his old age, by a thrifty, industrious youth. 
The owl mother was fond of fine feathers, with which to 
decorate her children, if she could not enjoy them herself. 

Poor owl mother, not to be allowed the privilege of 
flaunting in the sunshine among the gayest peacocks of the 
fashion ! 

Papa Owl was inflexible — his common sense was of the 
sternest quality, and all the more obstinately did he with- 
2 C 



1 8 Travels of an American Owl. 

stand the persuasive, feminine influence, because the family 
had once tasted the golden apples, only to have them leave 
the bitterest flavor of disappointment on the palate. 

The owls had the good fortune to live under a liberal form 
of government, and upon a seemingly broad level of equal- 
ity, and yet in the community of which they formed a part 
there were such nice dividing lines sometimes drawn as to 
be only apparent to those who thus hedged themselves 
about from contact with the vulgar outside world. 

Papa Owl enjoyed a certain degree of fame : he catered 
to the public appetite by furnishing the daintiest, plumpest 
mice for the market, which he carefully cultivated in the 
country, where the unfortunate little animals were fed in 
parks and pens while awaiting their doom, and his purse 
grew heavy as years succeeded years, and the demand for 
fa,ttened mice increased. 

His name was a by-word; no banquet could be considered 
complete without his speciality, for no civilized owl caught 
his own game. 

Papa Owl was shrewd, but he also was honest, and paid 
his debts promptly. His early education had been defec- 
tive, yet he had gleaned a good share of practical informa- 
tion from experience in the world's ways. 

He had wealth and generosity, but here rose the barrier 
that checked further progress in the ascending scale. 

Papa Owl regarded the geese in silent awe and admira- 



Travels of an American Otvl. 19 

tion, without ever dreaming of the remotest possibility of 
association with them. Wherefore ? The geese were a 
stately family, and carried themselves with becoming pride 
in society. No one ventured to doubt their claims to supe- 
riority; they had enjoyed birth and wealth for several gener- 
ations — since the days of their ancestor, a worthy burgher 
goose; whose claims to fame had no deeper foundation than 
Papa Owl's would have some years hence — the depth of his 
pockets. 

But then, zvhat a difference ? 

Here was Papa Owl displayed in the height and breadth 
of his vulgarity in the noonday light of the present, while 
the goose ancestor was shrouded in the twilight shadows 
of the past. 

The raven race, the turkey connection, the pigeon house- 
hold were quite above the owls, too, for some obscure rea- 
son, unless indeed it was that they possessed more audacity, 
and had resolutely pushed their way to their present ele- 
vated position. 

" If we were only geese ! " sighed Madam Owl, wist- 
fully. 

" Nonsense! " rejoined Papa Owl, stoutly. " An owl is as 
good as a goose any day." 

" If we could only make the world of our own opinion," 
sighed Madam Owl again. 

Then it was that the owl father yielded to temptation and 



20 Travels of an American Owl. 

fell. Why not persuade this world, whose opinion is of such 
vast importance to us, that an owl is as good as a goose ? 
This question dazzled and blinded the worthy bird for a 
long time ; it was the soft, seductive voice of the tempter 
perpetually whispering in his ear, to which he attentively 
listened. The result was that the owls covered their plain 
old nest with leaves and boughs, (which is equivalent to 
locking the door;) and, to the astonishment of their neigh- 
bors, flew away to a more fashionable locality. 

The new nest was decorated with all manner of finery, 
so that the glitter and sparkle of such fresh appointments 
made the inmates blink at the unaccustomed splendor. 

Papa Owl had no confidence in his own taste, so he 
employed a robin upholsterer, of great reputation, and 
cheerfully paid the bills afterward. 

When the nest was completely appointed, three disagree- 
able facts forced themselves upon the notice of the owls. 
Their appearance in a new locality had not occasioned the 
excitement and curiosity they had anticipated; in a word, no 
bird extended a friendly claw to them. Second, their old 
neighbors came, once, to gaze about in blank dismay at the 
gorgeous magnificence of these fashionable dominions, then 
shyly withdrew, and never repeated the visit. Worst of all, 
Papa Owl was thoroughly and miserably uncomfortable. He 
was afraid to move about at his ease for fear he should injure 
something, and he felt positively sure that the robin uphol- 



Travels of an American Ozvl. 21 

sterer held him in contempt. Silence reigned in the new 
nest where these poor birds dwelt disconsolate. 

In vain did the father bird conceal his own and Madam 
Owl's rusty feathers in glittering, borrowed plumage, hoping 
to attract attention. All the notice vouchsafed was a lan- 
guid inquiry among the geese: 

"Who is he?" 

" Oh, the field-mouse owl, you know. Lots of money 
and all that," replied a legal bluejay, who had earned a 
place in the confidence of the geese, even, by means of his 
quick wit and accurate knowledge of everybody's secrets. 

" It is really shameful ! The property should never have 
been sold to such a low bird," cackled the geese, wrathfully, 
and mindful of their right to cackle because of that terrible 
goose ancestor. 

The pigeons and turkeys were more moderate in their 
wrath, as they could not be expected to have the refined 
perception of the insult done them which was displayed by 
the geese. 

"We may take up the owl parvenu, after a while, espe- 
cially if he has a good wine-cellar, and entertains well," 
said the turkey faction. 

The owl father had not the patience to await the delight- 
ful moment when such favor should be shown him. His 
pride and resentment were also aroused. 

He missed the sociable companions of his former life 



22 Travels of an American Owl. 

and their warm cordiality, for he never saw them now, 
they having been frightened away by the one splendid 
glimpse they had obtained of his stylish establishment. 
He was frozen with his own grandeur, and perpetually 
fretted by the indifference of the surrounding birds to his 
own existence, 

"Well?" inquired Madam Owl, aware that matters were 
rapidly reaching a crisis with her liege lord, while he hopped 
about on one leg in a state of great excitement. " What 
is it?" 

" I will tell you what it is, ma'am," he replied, with a look 
of firm determination. " I 've made a fool of myself, and 
I 'm going back to the old nest on the east side of the river, 
as sure as I am alive, to pass my days in comfort and peace 
where I belong." 

" If you will only wait until the children are old enough 
to get into fashionable schools, they could then associate 
with our grand neighbors," urged the ambitious mother bird. 

(At this period, Tib and his little brothers and sisters, ten- 
der baby owls, were quite indifferent to the future that they 
were to carve for themselves.) 

" Let 'em manage it their own way," growled this unnat- 
ural parent. " They may come back here, if they choose ; 
I never shall ! " and the old fellow began to pack up, with 
so many explosive oaths and expletives over his defeat and 
folly, that, for the first time, his servants, the well-trained 



Travels of an American Ozvl. 23 

little wrens, came to the conclusion that, if he was not 
already a gentleman he might soon become one. 

Once re-established in the old nest, Papa Owl was in high 
good-humor with himself and the whole world. He made 
no further attempts at finery in his own person, but he 
indulged his family to the full of their bent in every luxury 
and frivolity. 

It would not be just to the failings of bird nature or 
human nature to state that the mother owl was satisfied 
with affairs; however, she concentrated the scattered sparks 
of ambition within her breast into one steady flame, with 
the determined purpose that the young owlets should not 
be worsted in the battle as she had been. 

In the land where these owls reside it requires no more 
than two generations to rise to the summit of fortune's 
wheel — the first, to acquire wealth, and the second, to spend 
it with such elegant rapidity that a third is usually forced 
to commence the humble drudgery again of counting shil- 
lings and pence. 

It must be acknowledged that Papa Owl was far too choleric 
to manage the matter of his elevation in society very suc- 
cessfully; and he therefore fell back the more heavily, with- 
out the satisfaction to Madam Owl's feelings of a gradual 
and graceful retreat. 

The hearty, honest old fellow was for marching straight 
into the enemy's country without artifice and with a liberal 



24 Travels of an American Owl. 

display of gold. The hostile ranks required, instead, con- 
siderable skill and patience in managing them — a gradual 
unobtrusive sapping and mining of their prejudices, accom- 
panied by a magnificent flourish of display before their eyes 
constantly, when they would have undoubtedly yielded, 
which the paternal owl had neither inclination nor finesse 
to accomplish. 

He acknowledged his defeat with frankness, struck his 
colors publicly, and withdrew his forces, feeling a soothing 
assurance that in the old familiar haunts his neighbors would 
not fly over his head, skip nimbly around him, or stare him 
out of countenance at all times ; and he was satisfied with 
this conviction alone. 

He had made a mistake in not standing his ground, and 
Madam Owl keenly appreciated the failure. This error 
could not be remedied in her day, except to smooth the path 
of the young ones to higher spheres. 

Thus it was that our hero, Tib, enjoyed so many advan- 
tages in the days of his youth, and early acquired that free- 
dom of manner and confidence of speech which had led him 
to call his uncle disrespectfully " an old mufi"." 

" I am going home to alter my will," said the uncle, rising 
with great dignity, and fixing his round eyes, that glowed 
like balls of pale-green fire, scornfully upon the unlucky 
Tib. " I do not call myself a bird of fashion, thank heaven, 
and I think my wealth had better go to found a school 



Travels of an American Owl. 25 

where young people shall learn to respect their elders;" and 
with this terrible personality shot at his nephew the uncle 
owl stalked solemnly away, for he was as hard to turn as a 
Scotchman. 

Papa Owl was now left entirely to the mercy of his wife 
and son ; the last prop of caution having been removed in 
the departure of his brother. 

Taking advantage of a yielding mood, and the helpless 
condition of the governor, Tib proceeded to lay down the 
law as to how he intended to travel. 

"We will sink the shop for the time, sir; and if the thing 
is to be done at all, it must be done well, you know," said 
the son, in a tone of cheerful patronage. 

"What do you mean by sinking the shop?" inter- 
posed the old owl, rather alarmed. "Do you mean to 
put us all under water with the expense of your travels 
abroad ? " 

"No, no; certainly not," replied Tib, soothingly. "Only, 
if one is to make an impression, one must do the princely 
sort of business with foreigners." 

Tib, having delivered this opinion, strutted before his 
parents pompously, pluming himself with eager delight at 
the prospect of creating a sensation. 

Madam Owl gazed at him admiringly, these sentiments 

finding a responsive sympathy in her own breast; yet at that 

moment Tib was far more vulgar in his arrogance and 

D 



26 Travels of an American Owl. 

ostentation than Papa Owl, with his blunt simplicity, had 
ever shown himself in his whole life. 

" You will soon get all of that knocked out of you," observed 
the old bird, sagely. "You need only to travel a very few 
miles, indeed, my son, to find that you were never heard of 
before, and never will be again most likely; and, also, that 
nobody feels much interest in your movements away from 
the family nest. We each occupy a very small spot in a 
very big world, and beyond our own especial nook we are 
not known." 

The young owl smiled blandly, as if his father was a very 
good sort of owl, in his way, but had wandered a trifle 
beyond his depth ; so he turned the conversation very 
adroitly, as he fancied, by inquiring : " Is the market pretty 
brisk now, sir ? " Papa Owl frowned while replying: 

" I would rather see you taking my place in the mouse- 
interest than larking off on your travels. There's a heap 
for young brains to do up at the farms, that I shall never 
have done, in the way of different kinds of diet for the 
animals; trying them under glass in winter; noting how 
they thrive when allowed to take a walk with their keepers ; 
and if the scientific hawk's method of packing the meat for 
market is really an improvement. However, mother must 
have her own way, I suppose." 

The aspiring Tib considered this a favorable moment to 
crush all icy restraints and boldly state his plans. 



Travels of an American Owl. 27 

" I shall have my own craft, of course, and I shall like it 
to be of a particularly natty build ; then I can cruise about 
at my leisure." 

Papa Owl stared in a bewildered way at this startling 
proposition, and even Madam Owl was unprepared for so 
much style. 

"Why not go, like other birds, by means of your own 
wings, or a public conveyance ? " 

"Use my own wings?" repeated Tib, indignantly. 

" Rich birds never use their own wings now-a-days, papa," 
said the Miss Owls, in disgust. 

"I may as well give up my journey, if those are your 
plans for me — and I am only to travel like any ordinary 
beggar," added Tib, with an aspect of heroic resignation to 
the commands of a niggardly parent. 

"Tib can't live but once, and why not allow the poor 
child to have his little pleasures," urged Madam Owl, as if 
existence could not furnish sufficient enjoyment for her son. 

Papa Owl hated to be worried and nagged over trifles ; 
perhaps, in his inmost soul, he cherished a desire to send 
Tib over the seas in as great state and glory as either a 
young turkey or gander could boast. 

Tib left the matter in the hands of the feminine owls, and 
the natural result was, that, after twenty-four hours of calm, 
persistent pecking on all sides, Papa Owl capitulated on 
these inglorious terms : « 



28 Travels of an American Oivl. 

" Tib may go to the Old World, or the devil, if he 
chooses. (I dare say he will get there soon enough, with 
plenty of wild nabobs to help him !) He may take his 
own boat and play the prince to his heart's content, and he 
will only be my son when all is done — he can't get away 
from that fact, however he may try to smother it. Don't 
worry me any more ! Hang it all ! Who ever heard of 
such a rumpus over a young scamp's doings before ? " 

Still, the old bird was defeated, and nobody noticed his 
grumblings. 

Certainly Tib did not, but hastened joyfully to build his 
vessel and prepare for the voyage. 




CREST OF THE OWL FAMILY. 




The Yacht. 



CHAPTER II. 



TIB'S YACHT. 




lUIOLD our enterprising young owl, on a tran- 
quil, balmy summer morning, when the waters 
of the harbor reflected the azure blue of the sky, 
flecked with crisp, sparkling ripples of sunshine in dazzling 
crests, here and there, embarking. 

His manner had a nonchalant case that was most impres- 
sive, although the shores were thronged with admiring 
groups to watch his departure. 

"That's a tidy craft," said a brisk little sporting snipe, 
cocking his head on one side, and expectorating freely. 

" Guess the governor had to come down heavy with the 
tin for it, though," returned a young duck, enviously. 

Tib was in an ecstasy of delighted vanity at the evident 

sensation his boat created. The yacht was made of cork, 

with an India-rubber bottom, which naturally gave it the 

lightness of a life-preserver, and it would invariably pop up 

to the surface again, after any amount of depression. 

29 



30 Travels of an American Otvl. 

It was shaped like an albatross with outspread wings. 
The deck of polished ivory was so slippery that only the 
firmest " sea legs " could maintain an upright position upon 
it. The slender, tapering masts were made of fragrant 
cedar-wood, while the different suits of sails varied from 
rich silk, fringed with silver, for heavy gales, to the finest 
cambric for a fair wind, and the most delicate gauze to 
gather in its transparent folds the light zephyrs of a cloud- 
less calm, which might otherwise be lost. The bulwarks 
were silver filigree-work, with a delicately carved rail, and 
the anchor was fashioned of the same precious metal, hand- 
somely wrought. 

The figure-head was a silver statue of Liberty, with 
jewel -studded cap and zone, resting upon a half- furled 
banner. 

The whole shark and sword-fish population of the ocean 
were so charmed with the lovely goddess, when she grace- 
fully dipped her silver face into the advancing billow, in 
obedience to the undulating motions of the vessel, that, on 
several occasions, they attempted to wrench her from her 
place, and bear her away to some remote, coral-decked 
shrine, to worship after their own fancy. These attempts 
were fortunately frustrated, and the monsters only suc- 
ceeded in crushing her jewels in their sharp teeth. 

" Long may she wave ! " growled the sharks, plunging 
into mysterious submarine depths once more, and leav- 



Travels of an American Otvl. 3 1 

\ng Liberty to guide the destiny of the American trav- 
eller. 

Upon the summit of tlic mast perched a silver owl, in 
lionor of Tib's race. The sea-birds circled about it occa- 
sionally, the fluttering little petrel giving it a casual and 
in([uiring peck, in passing like a storm - wraith over the 
waste of waters ; yet the silver owl maintained a steady 
gravity of demeanor, staring straight ahead, with green, 
emerald eyes. The bird on the mast bore such an exact 
resemblance to Papa Owl, that his family expressed the 
most flattering pleasure in the expensive image. 

The interior of the yacht was furnished with the utmost 
magnificence. If silver ornaments sufficed for the exterior, 
pure gold alone would answer for the cabins. Accordingly 
the saloon was framed in gold mirrors, of such brilliancy 
that Tib turned giddy when he beheld his form reflected at 
every angle, and yielded to a violent attack of sea-sickness, 
produced solely by the dazzling effect of beholding so many 
pictures of himself, seen obliquely, then of exaggerated 
size, then standing on his head upon the ceiling, and slant- 
ing in every direction at the corners, like a shower of owls 
descending in golden fragments and glimpses. 

There were the softest possible nests and lounging-places 
of luxurious feathers, spread invitingly for repose; there were 
pipes and cigar-cases, of every imaginable pattern, upon the 
table; the wine-closet was amply stored with frail bubbles of 



32 . Travels of an American Owl. 

tinted glass and whole regiments of bottles ; and the larder 
was equally well supplied with smoked, potted, and pickled 
mice, Tib having displayed more interest in preparing these 
meats for a sea-voyage than he had ever before evinced in 
his father's business. 

To complete everything, the movable articles of furniture 
had their legs tied to the floor, by means of small gold 
chains, to prevent them from running away or dancing 
about in rough weather. 

]\Iadam Owl considered that her son Tib had developed 
wonderful talents in the adornment of his boat. 

Papa Owl was of the opinion that owl junior had dis- 
played even more talent in spending money. However, the 
great work was accomplished, the yacht built, and all the 
town stood gazing at it. There was some balm to wounded 
prudence and caution in that. 

To make the town gape and stare requires a sacrifice of 
capital. 

Papa Owl, standing in portly dignity on the wharf, was 
gratified ; Madam Owl shed gentle tears of exultation over 
Tib; the young lady owls reminded him, in eager whispers, 
of the pretty things he had promised to bring them when 
he returned home. 

To add to the pleasant excitement of the occasion, who 
should come strolling along, with his eye-glasses carefully 
poised to critically examine everything, but the gander 



Travels of an American Owl. 33 

father, the present living head of the great goose family. 
He actually paused, with a gracious nod of recognition, 
to address Papa Owl, and that without an introduction; 
although, to be sure, the latter had lived for a twelvemonth 
in the fashionable nest, years ago, near him. 

"Your son has a very nice little boat there," said the 
goose father. 

"Yes," assented the owl father, very much flurried by the 
honor done him ; and then he could not think of another 
word to say for the life of him. 

Tib interposed, with the most enchanting grace and 
assurance : 

" It would afford me pleasure to take you down the bay, 
and test the sailing ability of my vessel ; " and the young 
owl bowed respectfully to the great gander. 

"As to that, I am a wretched sailor, so you really must 
excuse me," replied the latter, languidly, and in rather a 
frosty tone of patronage ; yet he passed on, in company 
with his brother-in-law, a sable raven, rather admiring Tib's 
courage in daring to extend an invitation of any sort to 
him — the goose father. 

"How these owls do make money, to be sure!" he 
observed to the raven, with a sigh. 

''Shrewd birds enough; but that young one will bring 
them to the ground, if he keeps on after such a promising 
commencement," croaked the raven. 
3 E 



34 Travels of an American Oivl. 

" Oh, I am not sure that he will," said the goose father, 
who felt half disposed to cast a favorable eye on Tib, for 
some inexplicable reason, now that he was going abroad in 
the handsomest of yachts. 

The graceful little vessel spread its gauze sails like snowy 
wings, the delicate prow cleaved aside the glancing waves in 
successive foam-crests, and a majestic bird actually seemed 
to bound over the waters, buoyant with life and freedom ; 
yet, it was so fragile in structure, so totally unfit to brave 
the ocean's sterner moods, that the eager spectators on the 
shores could not but devoutly pray that stately icebergs, 
with lofty crags of glittering peaks, might not crush the 
tiny craft, or the storm-king make it the toy of his furious 
wrath. 

Tib watched the familiar shores of home fade from sight, 
watched the sun sink behind gorgeous draperies of crimson 
and purple, paving the sea with a rosy splendor. 

A pure star of light flashed and paled on the distant hori- 
zon, and the last faint perfumed breeze of land, the mingled 
breath of fruit-blossoms, blended with the keen, life-giving 
atmosphere of the sea. 

Tib wondered if a young owl had ever poised his pinions 
for so bold a flight before as he intended to take — had 
ever been fired with so noble a determination of astonish- 
ing the world. 







■.^^z^ 



^^^ 



The Royal Falcon, 



Og^F^^ 




^^^^F^^^P 




^i 


^^&^^S 






^^2 


^M 


^^p^^^^^'^^S^^M 


Iw^^^^^^M 


IIj*^ 


^c«| 










Im 



CHAPTER III. 



T//E HOYAL falcon: 




IB'S yacht had breasted many a billow, and 
scudded swiftly before many a gale, when a 
distant rim of land appeared on the horizon, and 
announced his approach to the shores of another continent. 
At last ! 

It is unnecessary to add, that the young owl leaned 
against the silver bulwark, poising his glass to gaze at 
those distant cliffs, a foreign breeze fanning his brow for 
the first time, with emotions impossible to describe ; vain- 
glory was predominant, however, when he considered the 
splendor of his "stunning" craft. 

All travellers have experienced the stifling effect of these 
varied emotions, and have described them much better than 
either Tib or his faithful historian can possibly hope to do. 
Suffice it, that the young owl fixed his gaze on those 
glittering needle-peaks of chalky cliff, which had hurled 
back the Atlantic's spray -clouds in wintry tempests, and 

35 



36 Travels of an Americaii Owl. 

received the gentle caresses of rippling summer-waves for 
so many years. Like the terrible sentinels of a watch- 
tower, they had crushed in their fangs one of the Spanish 
Armada, and still held the ghastly skeleton in a chasm — a 
grim relic of the deed, as a warning, perhaps, that invading 
foes would always jar thus against solid, impenetrable rock. 

From the lofty cliffs that faced the ocean sloped hill and 
dale, clothed in velvet turf, fringed with rounded masses of 
foliage, threaded by silvery streams. Sometimes a stately 
castle crowned the hillside, with smooth lawns, merging 
into parks of ancient trees, and sweeping in graceful curves 
to the water-brink ; sometimes a town rose, terrace above 
terrace, on the crag, with the bathing-machines wheeled out 
into the sea for the benefit of timid bathers, and invalids in 
little carriages, anxiously watching the movements of the 
erratic donkeys that dragged them about ; sometimes a 
ravine opened a charming vista, with a fisherman's hut 
perched on the ledge above the tide at the entrance, other 
trim cottages beyond half screened by the tender drapery 
of clustering vines, a time-stained church-tower, a square 
Saxon mansion framing the distance, where ghosts might 
haunt picture - gallery and corridor, whose human forms 
had touched the antique furniture of the ladies' morning- 
room, and trodden upon the Italian marble pavement of the 
entrance-hall. 

Over this miniature island-paradise rested a calm, peace- 



Travels of an American Owl. 37 

ful atmosphere, and the sun's rays touched spire and roof 
and garden with a mellowing, softening tint. 

Tib noticed that his old friend, the sun, did not shine 
here with the transparent brilliancy that made the very air 
elastic at home, yet more sombre hues seemed harmonious 
in this spot. 

" It is very pretty," soliloquized the American traveller, 
as his yacht dropped anchor in a fine, spacious harbor. 
" Everything seems to be kept in wonderfully nice trim, 
too. We might take a lesson in that line, by-the-bye ; but, 
bless me! it's not as large as a good-sized pocket-handker- 
chief Why should it not be nice ? They have nothing to 
do here except to run about trimming and clipping and 
polishing so many square miles. If they had a Great West 
to settle and make something of, now, they would have a 
different song to whistle and a livelier tune. You bet, old 
fogies 1 " 

From the place of anchorage, where the frail vessel nes- 
tled once more beneath the shadow of land for protection, 
Tib beheld two bustling, thriving towns, rising on oppo- 
site shores of the river, and many varieties of sea-craft 
besides his own, ranging from stately steamships, outward 
bound for distant tropical lands, to the tiniest pleasure- 
boat. 

The hills rose boldly to a considerable elevation, and the 
eye lingered upon a wide range of landscape, farm-houses, 



38 Travels of an Americaji Otvl. 

cottages, and tide - mills, luxuriant groves, coppices, and 
plantations, rich meadows, villas, and churches. 

Tib's arrival was welcomed with an interest that he never 
could have hoped to ins]3ire as a private bird, without ivory 
decks and gold-plated cabins. 

The young owl cared nothing for posterity. He frankly 
admitted that, in his opinion, it was very poor business, 
indeed, living for future generations, who would not care a 
— never mind what — for you, when all was done. 

He decided to live in the present, and he was also stimu- 
lated with a noble desire to render himself conspicuous, 
even if it was only attained at great expense. 

"Have you seen the American owl's yacht?" was buzzed 
about this fairy isle, nay, even received a paragraph of 
notice in newspapers, whose opinion, favorable or other- 
wise, made all the world tremble, and at last reached the 
august ears of royalty. 

Tib was pronounced to be " no end of a plucky fellow, 
you know, to cross the ocean in that cockle-shell affair;" 
and although his pretensions were sneered at, his costume 
and accent openly derided, his nationality considered a 
lamentable disgrace to him, still he could not be robbed 
of this one cordial compliment of pluck, and with that he 
would fain rest content. 

Thus it happened that the news spread (Tib was certainly 
creating a sensation) until, at last, the falcon graciously inti- 



Travels of an American Oivl. 39 

mated that it would afford him pleasure to climb the side 
of this transatlantic vessel with his royal claws, and stand 
upon the ivory deck with his royal feet. 

"Think of that, will you!" cried Tib, flinging his cap 
high in the air, with an irrepressible outburst of enthusiasm, 
when these tidings were brought to him. " I was presump- 
tuous to invite the goose father on board, and now a royal 
falcon will come without an invitation! A prophet is not 
without honor, save in liis own country and among his own 
people." 

(Faithful historian, reprovingly: "Don't be irreverent, 
Tib, whatever else you arc, and quote Scripture in the 
wrong place.") 

The American owl watched his noble guests leave the 
shore, with an assumption of calmness which he was very 
far from feeling; and he was obliged, at the last moment, to 
resort to the fiery stimulant of a "brandy smash," to screw 
up his courage and nerve him for the encounter. 

All the previous day, Tib and his menials had been dash- 
ing wildly up and down, around and about, in search of 
suitable delicacies to tempt the princely appetite, and the 
luncheon-table in the cabin received a last anxious glance 
from our hero, before he finally ascended the companion- 
way to welcome his distinguished visitors. 

He went through the dread ordeal somehow, with flut- 
tering pulse and changing color, all his natural audacity 



40 Travels of an American Owl. 

deserting him when most needed. But for the brandy- 
smash, Tib would have inevitably swooned. 

The falcon was a handsome young bird, ruddy, and fresh, 
and strong, with all the physical perfection of youth in his 
country. 

In many traits it would have been perilous for poor, hum- 
ble Tib to imitate his falconship: the same vices which 
were half shrouded by the dazzling halo of greatness in 
the latter, would have been only coarse sins in Tib, stripped 
of rank. 

The owl would have done well to imitate the falcon in 
one habit. 

At that early hour, no "brandy smash" corroded his 
vitals or weakened his nerves ; he did not dart into conve- 
nient bar-rooms, to toss off a whiskey-straight or a cocktail, 
at any time, but first strengthened his stomach with substan- 
tial food, after which he could have drank Tib under the 
table, unmoved, and remain as fresh as a lark afterward. 

(Faithful historian again : " My dear Tib, if you viiist and 
will drink, why not do it elegantly, and also in a way that 
will preserve you the best in this present existence, which 
you are determined to enjoy so much? You scorn economy 
in any form, and you would rather pay the highest possible 
price for any luxury than not — for fear some shopman, 
even, should do you the wrong of imagining that you 
weigh your gold. Why not take your wine with your 



Travels of an American Owl. 41 

dinner, like a gentleman, abandon the vulgar habit of 
frequenting bar-rooms for raw liquors, and allow your 
misused internal arrangements to convalesce ? ") 

The falcon was accompanied by a haughty golden 
pheasant, who wore a ducal coronet, (when he felt like 
it,) and a bluff mastiff, in magnificent military uniform, 
who did the guardian - dragon business with young mad- 
caps. 

The falcon treated Tib with an easy familiarity that was 
intoxicatingly delightful to a common bird's feelings, and 
he found himself confiding in the falcon, also, especially 
after the cork had popped out of the third champagne-bot- 
tle's slender neck. 

Once, the falcon actually winked his left eye, and whis- 
pered to Tib that the mastiff, who was soberly discussing 
lobster salad at that moment, was an " old guy," and per- 
haps the reckless young bird was actuated by some deep 
motive of ambition in making the remark, which would 
surely be treasured up in Tib's note-book verbatim, and 
handed down to remote posterity in the New World. 

What would you have ? A younger son cannot do much 
except to go a-visiting in his mamma's provincial posses- 
sions, and the falcon may have taken a melancholy pleasure 
in thus distinguishing himself before a stranger; a pleasure 
that shed a ray of sunlight across the gloomy darkness of a 
bird's lot, whose misfortune it was, not to have been born 

F 



42 Travels of an American Owl. 

at an earlier date, and reaped tlie benefit of the homely- 
adage : " First come, first served." 

The party politely admired all the appointments of the 
natty craft; the mastiff, in particular, growling his approval 
occasionally, as he moved about, quite unconscious of the 
sarcasm which would always be associated with his name 
in the land of the West. 

When the moon rose that night, resting a glittering shield 
on the surface of the sea, and tinting each advancing wave 
with a silvery crest, Tib received the impetus of an astound- 
ing idea. 

lie was lounging pensively against the mast, with his 
hands in his pockets, and a cigar in his mouth, imbibing 
something of the serene quiet of the evening, and reflecting 
upon the startling events of the day. 

" I wonder what the falcon was made of?" thought the 
owl. " I should like to have pinched his finger, to see if 
it was real flesh and blood. I lis boot must have been 
rather larger than mine, I guess. Wonder what he does 
with himself all day? Suppose his first cigar made him feel 
queer and sick, just like a common mortal." 

Suddenly a brilliant comet hissed through the air, and 
darted straight into his brain, scattering fiery sparks before 
his eyes. Tib held his head firmly upon his shoulders, at 
first, to prevent it from flying off with the magnitude of the 
idea. 



Travels of an American Owl. 43 

Heavens! Why had it not occurred to him before? He 
would present his boat, as a pretty toy, to the jolly youn^ 
falcon. That would be doing matters in a stylish way, and 
at the same time he could be elevated above the common 
herd to notoriety. 

Papa Owl and his family were seated at the breakfast 
table one fresh, bright morning, and the old gentleman had 
scarcely uii folded the newspaper, when a leading article 
caught his eye : he paused, stared, gave a suppressed snort 
of inarticulate rage, and sank back in his chair with every 
appearance of apoplexy. 

Of course, the owl daughters fled to his side, in a flutter 
of apprehension, and eager curiosity. 

In due time, the paper was handed to the trembling 
Madam Owl behind the coffee-pot. 

"It's about Tib; he's got into print at last," said the 
youngest Miss Owl, airily. 

"How you frightened me. What has the dear boy 
done?" questioned the mother bird, with irritating pla- 
cidity. 

"Done? Why he has made a confounded ass of himself. 
That's all!" 

Said one genteel owl daughter to the other, behind her 
napkin : 

" Pa is dreadfully coarse, when he gets into a rage." 

Madam Owl gave a feeble gasp of dismay, when she 



44 



Travels of an American Oivl. 



read that Tib had parted with his horribly expensive boat 
in that fashion. 

Everybody was astonished. The f^oose father was known 
to express surprise in common with the general public. 

Perhaps the most astonished bird of all was the recipient 
of the gift, the princely falcon, himself; and if the haughty 
golden -pheasant companion had never worn a well-bred 
sneer before, one certainly marked his classical and aristo- 
cratic features now. 

From this date, Papa Owl was observed to fall off in his 
looks. lie made gloomy remarks relative to the poor- 
house, which he seemed to regard as the ultimate residence 
of himself and family; his appetite failed; in a word, he 
suddenly underwent that sharply contrasted transition, 
from comfortable, plump middle age, to careworn, pinched 
decrepitude, so often noticed. 

Alas ! poor father bird, were the tinsel and fine feathers 
only false jewels after all ? 




mm J 




The Great Fair, 



CHAPTER IV. 



TIB AT THE GREAT FAIR. 




|NE sultry, summer day, when the sun poured 
down such fierce heat that the pavements 
scorched the feet, a young owl might have been 
seen wending his way through the delightful City of 
Amusement, where the gendarmes, the police authorities, 
the powers that direct all the smooth machinery of motion, 
could and did regulate everything except the heat of the sun. 
The god of day laughed them to scorn, baking those he 
saw fit to bake, leering impudently into the sacred retreat 
of royalty, slanting dazzling rays against the gray surface 
of churches, whose cool, dim recesses alone afforded the 
shelter of a soothing twilight. 

The young owl was no other than our friend Tib, and he 
was attended by an obsequious, chattering monkey guide, 
who was the torment of the traveller's days, and the bane 
of his existence. 

The by-ways and hedges of traffic into which the mon- 
key adroitly led monsieur — the jewelry shops, the silk 

45 



46 Travels of an A))icrican O-icf. 

magazines, the picture -dealers' dens, where he found him- 
self unexpectedly, and then innocently dropped Tib into 
the clutches of insinuating clerks and persuasive shop- 



women 



The Miss Owls may have fervently blessed his memor}'-, 
but Tib, at times, bitterly regretted the day when he pre- 
sented himself at the hotel, with many bows, looking so 
meek, so deferential, and polite; yet withal, the monkey 
was so intensely national and amusingly cheerful as he 
adapted his ready tact to any emergency, that the young 
owl would fain rest content with the necessity of his pres- 
ence. 

" Live anywhere else but in our cherished City of Amuse- 
ment! " the monkey would say, with a comical shrug of dis- 
may. " Ah, mon dieu ! zis is zc spot for ze rich monsieur, 
and for le pauvre diable zere is no other." 

On the present occasion, Tib was drifting along like the 
common throng, which was, to a certain extent, unpleasant, 
but he consoled himself with the reflection that it would 
be impracticable for him to sa// through the Great Fair, 
even if he still owned his yacht. 

Tib did not seem to feel very much confidence in his own 
individual attractiveness, independent of surrounding glitter. 

Every bird and beast from the very ends of the earth, 
that could raise the wind, had come flocking to the Great 
Fair. 



Travels of an American Oivl. 47 

As the American owl reached, for the first time, a fine 
quay facing a stately bridge, he found himself in a throng 
of brisk, vivacious old squirrel dames, in wonderful head- 
gear, gazing al)()ut witli twinkling black eyes ; shaggy goats 
from the mountains ; venerable woodpeckers, in blouse, 
sabots, and striped caps ; swarthy gull fishermen, from the 
stormy coast; dark-featured Breton rats — all gazing eagerly 
in the same direction. 

At the foot of the bridge a triumi)hal arch, formed of 
floating banners, marked an entrance to the vast Champ, 
where erewhile, battalions swept over the plain, in ranks 
of glittering armor and flowing plumes, to the inspiring 
pulse of martial strains, and where industry now i)itched 
her little tents, and (lis[)layed her little booths of pretty 
gimcracks to an enlightened world. 

I low wistfully and eagerly the thronging thousands 
viewed this archway of fluttering banners, pausing doubt- 
fully a moment on the brink of the unseen, to wonder if 
the show would be worth all the troul^le and expense of 
f ibulous-priced lodgings ; of panting over so many weary 
miles of dusty space ; of being plundered, plucked, and 
browbeaten in unknown tongues. 

Well might they pause to balance the scale — the poor, 
travelling thousands! — and think, with a sigh, of the 
"ingle ncuk" at home, which they had rashly deserted, to 



48 Travels of aft Americmt Owl. 

join the mad ranks of those in pursuit of novelty and 
pleasure. 

Still drifting onward, Tib stood within the precincts of 
the Great Fair at last. 

The young owl paused, and stared mutely around him, 
the attendant monkey paused behind him, and rubbed his 
paws together, in a noiseless manner, awaiting the result. 

What was it like ? It was everything — and yet nothing. 
Could Tib fold up a rainbow and put it in his pocket to 
carry home to the owl sisters ? Could he imprison a flash- 
ing sunray or a moonbeam in his portmanteau, that would 
not melt into imperceptible ether before the severe scru- 
tiny of custom-house officials ? No more could he describe 
the first feeling produced within him by the general aspect 
of the Great Fair. 

He had a vague conviction that all the riches, the won- 
ders, the relics of the whole universe were heaped together 
in this confined space, and that it would take him a thou- 
sand years to sift them into distinct, separate atoms. 

He knew that he was heedlessly ignoring the dust of 
past ages, which would still be held sacred, even after the 
owl race were no more. Terrible thought ! 

He had a bewildered idea, that, at one moment, he was 
in large saloons flooded with light, where successive ranges 
of chandeliers, fringed with crystal drops, urns, slender 
vases of enamel, in imitation of precious stones, goblets. 



Travels of an American Owl. 49 

and jars, dazzled and sparkled in every hue, from the cool 
green of malachite and emerald to the gorgeous crimson 
of rubies, the softened tints of turquoise and mother-of-pearl. 

Then he was conscious that the monkey dragged him 
into a perplexing labyrinth of machinery, where he lost 
himself among polished wheels, shafts, bobbins, cylinders, 
cranks, and finally emerged, not a bit the wiser for it all. 

Tib was absolutely sure that the monkey guide intended 
a refined sarcasm, when he conducted him, after extricating 
him from the machinery wilderness, to a region of toys, as 
better adapted to his understanding. 

The puppets were more to his taste, he confessed. 

These toys were none of your clumsy bags of cotton, in 
print frocks and pinafores, with flat noses and wooden 
heads : they were fashionable toys — toys of the period ! 
and into their tiny faces was pinched and lined an expres- 
sion of inimitable ennui, which did great credit to the artist. 
Born with a gold spoon in their mouths, they lounged in 
exquisite boudoirs, surrounded with rosewood furniture, 
mirrors, chandeliers, and consoles, kept their carriage and 
saddle-horse, and wondered how other toys existed without 
watches and grand pianos. They tried on new dresses and 
gloves, played with dogs the size of baby mice, and when 
they travelled, wrapped themselves in railway rugs, and 
carried huge trunks for their charming wardrobes. 

All very dainty and natty — even droll, to grown-people; 
4 G 



V 



50 Trai'iis of an Aiiic'ricaii Oivl. 

but somehow, Tib woiulcrcd if the extraordinary precocity 
of his as^c might not be, in some small measure, attributa- 
ble to the artificial perfection of such toys, and their influ- 
ence on the sharp wits of little nestlings. 

*' Monsieur like dis ? " said the monkey, still with that 
indefinable mockery of which Tib was conscious. " Per- 
haps he will be so good as to look here." 

A perfect miniature histor}' of the great vulture's military 
achievements in tiny wax statuettes wrought with patient 
skill : zouaves, charging with wild enthusiasm, gesticulating 
trumpeters; chasseurs in fine relief ; a stately drum-major ; 
fierce, lithe spahi, bronzed by the parching desert heat, in 
gaudy Oriental costume-; a placid iiivalidc seated in the 
sun; a stiff gendarme scowling suspiciously over a pass- 
port ; a sturdy little mule, climbing a steep path with a 
mountain howitzer on his back. 

Then Tib strolled onward, to get entangled among more 
machinery, more steamboats, more locomotives, more com- 
plicated looms, and whizzing sewing-machines, until he 
finally sought his hotel, crushed with the appalling confu- 
sion of all he had seen, and the fearful responsibility he had 
assumed in attempting to " do " the Great Fair. 

All the city was out of doors, seated at little tables, sip- 
ping wine and nibbling ices, dancing along the streets in 
merry groups, fluttering through brilliantly illuminated gar- 
dens — music in the air, ga)'ety everywhere — nothing but 



Travels of an American Owl. 5 1 

butterflies skimming lightly on the surface of existence, and 
extracting the honey of amusement from everything. 

For three mortal days, Tib submitted to being dragged 
about by the persistent monkey, his ear perpetually irri- 
tated with sounds of broken English, his eyes wearied with 
endless sight-seeing. 

The fourth morning the American owl felt his national 
independence rising within him. 

It was sheer cowardice for him to have employed the 
monkey's services at all. He could speak the language 
very well, but he felt a trifle shy about trying his powers 
of speech ; he was very young, this was his first plunge 
, into the outside world, and he had a morbid dread of 
making himself ridiculous before this butterfly nation, 
whose sense of the ludicrous is so keen, despite an external 
suavity of manner. 

A Teuton tortoise would devour his sausage composedly 
if all the fish of the sea and the fowls of the air were 
staring at him in goggle-eyed astonishment, quite uncon- 
scious or indifferent to their existence. 

A Saxon partridge would plant his umbrella in the most 
crowded portion of any thoroughfare in Christendom, and 
gaze straight up into the heavens, if he felt so disposed, 
unmindful of the smirks and grimaces induced by his 
eccentric attitude, and at length bring his glance back to 
earth, with haughty disregard of opinion. 



52 Travels of an American Owl. 

Tib envied these admirable traits from the depths of his 
soul, but he coukl not successfully imitate them at first, he 
was so new, so painfully fresh and new. 

However, having dreamed of the monkey all night, in 
the most unpleasant manner — as grinning suddenly in his 
face, shrieking in his cars, sitting on his chest, then hurling 
glass, ancient pottery, and whole picture-galleries at his 
head — Tib nerved himself to the duty of sternly dismissing 
him. 

The monkey fought desperately, clutching at any straw 
of argument, doubling around unexpected corners with 
artful suggestions, for he deeply regretted the calamity of 
losing the plucking of the rich young bird ; yet Tib dis- 
played some of Papa 0\\ I's nrniiiess on this occasion, and 
his guiding star departed in dudgeon. 

Now Tib felt a delightful sense of freedom ; he might 
flirt with the coryplu'cs of the opera, he might gamble reck- 
lessly, drink unlimited champagne, climb to the summit 
of some church-tower, get tapped on the head and flung 
into the river, to reappear in the ghastly morgue — and it 
was nobody's business. 

Again, he turned his steps toward the ga}'Iy draped arch, 
and beheld, in one direction, the East, with her mosques, 
minarets, and temples, and in the other, the West, with her 
energetic life of thriving industry. 

Reclining among her cushions of satin and velvet, in a 



Travels of an A in eric an Oivl. 53 

fragrant atmosphere of aromatic odors, her turban starred 
with clusteringr diamonds, her draperies of the richest 
fabrics, her tunic \vr()u<^dit with the t^old and silver threads 
of lost arts and forgotten tongues, the mystic symbols of 
vanished races, in tlie first faint dawn of the past, and 
sown broadcast, with untarnished gems of rare crafts, the 
East rested in tlie languor of repose after a work accom- 
plished. 

Earnest and erect, upon her cloud -throne of snowy 
vapor, fair and beautiful in the noonday of the present, 
instinct with courage, nerved to a splendid vitality, the 
West eagerly scanned the horizon of the future. 

Tib began to enjoy the scene before him immensely — 
once rid of that odious monkey. 

"I shall sec the fun, now," quoth the owl. "Catch me 
keeping all that rubbish of useful manufactures ticketed 
and labelled in my brain. I guess wc will have a bit of 
Arabian Nights, if we know ourselves." 

Here was a small Egyptian building, in elaborate ara- 
besque, containing saloons of costly curiosities, the court- 
yard shaded by palm-trees, fountains tossing their silver 
spray into the sunny atmosphere, which was supposed to 
represent the residence of the ibis ruler, in his distant 
home, on the banks of the sacred Nile. 

Here was a caravanserai, and in the covered galleries 
Eastern merchants sat gravely awaiting customers for their 



54 Travels of an American Owl. 

wares — gay stuffs, Damascus weapons, brilliant carpets, and 
gilded vials of attar of rose from the Levant, 

Tib beheld again, with the vivid imagination of child- 
hood, the narrow streets lined with rows of little shops 
brimming over with fabulous wealth, the veiled figures, the 
laden camels, caparisoned mules, and hurrying groups of 
obedient slaves. With reverence did he regard these mer- 
chant birds — a reverence somewhat dissipated by over- 
hearing one Asiatic mutter in his beard, glibly, to his 
neighbor : 

" Par dieu ! Que je suis ennuyc! " 

Here was the stable for dromedaries, and the ungainly 
animals, deprived of the harmonious association of bound- 
less desert sands, looked sadly out of place, and fretted at 
their captivity, instead of favorably illustrating the patient 
camel character. 

Tib roamed among the precious rolls of papyrus in the 
obelisk, colossal statues, sphinxes, and tapped, irreverently, 
dark-complexioned mummies with his cane. 

" I should think you old fellows might be contented to 
pass away," he said ; and the mummies seemed to stare 
back in stony wrath. 

The temples and their antiquities possessed few attrac- 
tions. If one could taste the ripe, juicy fruit of the present, 
wherefore turn aside to masticate such dry thistles and 
brambles as mummies and mysterious hieroglyphics ? 



Travels of an American Owl. 5 5 

That was Tib's philosophy. 

Beyond rose the graceful Tunisian kiosquc, the plaster 
walls of which were carved to the extreme delicacy of lace- 
work, with such keen, delicate implements as only skilful 
Eastern fingers could wield, in minute fretwork and intricate 
pattern. How light and fragile it appeared 1 How unlike 
the square, massive structures of northern climates ! 

In striking contrast to such finished elegance of design, 
Tib found a rude Sclavonian sloboda. The timber houses 
for the gaunt hound peasantry were hewn solely with the 
axe, the space between the logs filled with tow, a staircase 
leading up outside to the isba, a wooden balcony orna- 
mented the front, and the cornices were carved. These 
rural mansions were thoroughly complete, transplanted as 
they seemed from some bleak, dreary hillside of the Arctic 
circle, even to the luxury of the huge terra-cotta stove. 

Native hounds, wearing vests of violet flannel, Astrachan 
caps, high boots, and baggy velveteen knickerbockers, 
wrapped themselves in sheepskin coverings, and went to 
bed on top of the stoves, to give visitors an idea of north- 
ern comfort. 

" Je-ru-sa-lem ! That beats all ! " ejaculated somebody 
at Tib's elbow. 

There stood a fat pig, and, skipping nimbly about him, 
Tib's former monkey guide. There was a gleam of triumph 
in the monkey's eye, which plainly expressed : 



56 Travels of an American Owl. 

" I have lost an owl and captured a pig." 

The pig seemed to take it for granted that Tib would 
understand his remark, although he treated every one with 
the same generous confidence, as he trudged about slowly 
and ponderously. The pig's very presence suggested 
money ; he represented heavy capital, and he had a pecu- 
liar habit of abstractedly jingling loose coins together in 
his pocket, that heightened the impression. 

In five minutes he had ascertained that Tib was indeed 
Papa Owl's son ; in five more he had confided to Tib that 
he was travelling abroad to console himself for having just 
been left a widower. The chuckling, wheezy old fellow 
wiped his eyes apologetically, then glanced about with an 
expression of si)', whimsical defiance. 

"I don't believe I shall marry again." (He was only 
about seventy years of age.) " I don't know how I shall 
feel in the spring, though." 

In the meanwhile the hound peasant, who had retired to 
repose upon the fireless stove for the seventh time that day, 
arose, much refreshed with his imaginary slumbers, and 
resumed his former occupation of gazing into vacancy with 
a stolid aspect, which was remarkably successful, consider- 
ing that he had been born and reared beneath the shadow 
of Notre Dame. 

" Do you mean to say that any human lives in that air 
concern ? " asked the pig, shaking his head incredulously, 



Travels of an American Ozvl. 57 

and pointing to a bcchivc-shaped yourta of sewed rushes, 
with an aperture in the top to admit light and emit smoke. 

As if to answer for themselves, out popped a brisk Cos- 
sack ermine and a real Tartar sable. They lived there, 
and were glad of a chance, in the howling wilderness of 
the desolate steppes. 

Tib felt that it would be a good thing to have cultivated 
the pig's acquaintance when he returned home, and accord- 
ingly he politely assumed the responsibility of graciously 
escorting the millionaire through the Great Fair. 

No small task, as it proved ! 

It was astonishing the amount of mischief the pig man- 
aged to get into, considering that the nimble monkey had 
him in tow, and Tib guarded the flank. 

If he was left innocently staring at a fascinating array of 
lace, when Tib turned to rejoin him he had floundered 
through the ranks of a royal party, and was explaining 
eagerly to a handsome golden eagle, in a loud tone of 
voice, how in his country they had no time to make those 
things, (meaning laces, of course,) but the wimmin liked to 
buy them, all the same. " Bless you, yes! Break the bank, 
if you let them loose at a lace counter." 

The golden eagle was out on his good behavior; the 
eyes of the world were upon him; therefore, he smiled pla- 
cidly upon the pig, who had none of the sinister aspect of 
an assassin. His attendants were struck dumb with aston- 

H 



58 Travels of an American Owl. 

ishmcnt and horror. "Donner und blitz!" From whence 
came this pii; ? To what race could he beloni;? In what 
remote confer of the earth's surface had he received his 
education, to thus address a reii^nin^ sovereign with sucli 
familiarity, not precisely impudent, and assuredly not servile/ 

Tib and the monkey guide exchanged a look of dismay, 
and dashed to the rescue, just as the pig, deceived by the 
golden eagle's j^olished urbanity, was about to offer his 
caril and invite him to call at the Grantl Hotel. 

" Proud to make your acquaintance, sir," began the mil- 
lionaire pompously, when Tib clutched him by the arm and 
bore him away, while the monkey covered the retreat with 
a profusion of deprecating bows. 

"Pardon! Mille pardons, monseigncur Americain!" 
with a finishing shrug that left nothing more to be said. 

"IHi? What the devil is that monkey trying to do, 
now?" growled the pig, suspiciously, struggling to release 
himself from Tib's custody. "Why don't he crawl on his 
hands and knees, and beg everN'body to tramp on him !" 

"My dear sir," whispered Tib, frantically, "you have 
been addressing a real, live emperor from the Danube — 
the golden eagle." 

The pig exhibited signs of faintness — he leaned against 
his young friend for support. 

"Oh, Lord! I didn't know him from Adam," he finally 
gasped. 



Travels of an yiincrican Owl. 59 

Jkit it really did no manner of ^ood. The pi^ seemed 
doomed to distinguish himself, and the poor old j^entleman 
would have enjoyctl the novelty of his surroiuuliiii^s, if 
those two anxious guardians of his conduet had only let 
him alone in peace. 

At one moment, he was gesticulating to a grave, Persian 
crane, with a long beard and lamb's -wool kalpac on his 
head; and, as the crane could not understand a word he 
said, he rei)licd to a long remark, with suspicion and 
reserve, that "he did not wish to buy anything," and that 
" he expected to return home next week." To which the 
pig responded, pertinently, "We can beat the whole crowd 
of ye in agricultural machinery," and waddled on, with a 
nod of gentle defiance. 

Next, he attacked a group of Jai)anese weasels, wearing 
straw platters on their heads, and heavily embroidered robes, 
who spent their time twirling little gilt fans, and blinking 
at the strangers with their clever, almond -shapc:d eyes, 
cracking their own jokes, no doubt, and having their own 
fun at the expense of their neighbors. Tib was choking 
with laughter, behind the pig's back, but the poor monkey 
was kept in a cold perspiration of terror, at the erratic 
proceedings of his new charge. 

To have the pig exchange the time of day with imper- 
turbable Turkish storks in fezzes, a princely Hindoo croco- 
dile artistically swathed in rainbow-tinted shawls, prancing 



6o Travels of an Amcricaji Owl. 

lancers with tight waists and charming moustaches, silent, 
spectral cloister-flowers dimly visible through veils, was of 
trifling importance. 

When he insisted on chasing the Egyptian ibis, seen in 
the distance, and looking as much like a European bird 
as he could make himself appear, matters assumed a more 
serious aspect. The monkey desperately stood in the pig's 
pathway, declaring that monsieur could only be permitted 
to so disgrace himself by stepping over his prostrate body, 
and Tib slid judiciously away to a safe distance, and became 
absorbingly interested in majolica tiles. 

" Ikit he's a shrewd business bird — a good farmer, I tell 
you," panted the pig, impatiently. " I want to ask him why 
he don't plant — " 

Tib dived around the corner in pursuit of the art of 
American joiner)^ and when he cautiously returned the pig 
had been vanquished by the firmness of his guide. 

The Teuton dragoon-bird, with his lofty crest, embodying 
precise militar}- discipline, and attended by his prime-min- 
ister, the Bismarck brown fox, were both eagerly scanned 
by the curious traveller, yet he was able to restrain his 
emotions. 

When the majestic white bear of the North appeared in 
the distance, the pig indignantly flung all restraints to the 
winds, with glowing enthusiasm. 

" Do you s'pose I won't tell the bear how much we think 



Travels of an Atnericafi Owl. 6i 

of him at home ? Get out with your etiquette stuff! Isn't 
the American eagle as grand as any of your plaguy royal 
birds mincing around here, I should like to know?" 

Away charged the pig, and the monkey folded his paws 
in mute despair. 

Tib again withdrew to a safe distance, for fear of being 
identified with any of his countryman's blunders. 

Half an hour later he found the pig, his countenance 
empurpled with wrath, his cravat twisted awry, muttering 
dreadfully naughty words under his breath. 

"The fools wouldn't let me get near the imperial bear," 
he explained. "Held me off by main force, flourishing 
their swords — never had a sword stuck at me before in my 
life. What did the durned critters think I was going to 
do?" 

" Shoot him, perhaps," suggested Tib. 

" Shoo ! Never thought of that," said the pig, brighten- 
ing at this solution of the mystery. 

" Suppose we should try the restaurants, as long as these 
people will not understand our motives," said Tib. 

The pig brightened still more — became radiant at the 
prospect of gratifying his palate with different styles of 
cookery. 

So they proceeded to make a tour of the cafes in search 
of such rare delicacies as they could furnish. And now, the 
astonishing capacity of the pig gradually developed. 



62 Trair/s of an Anu-ricirn Owl. 

ITc strancjlcd himself with that Eastern hixury, coffee 
prepared in an luistern way, pounded, and thank in a thick, 
pasty consistency. 

" If in\' cook siMit up ihc coffee for breakfast nil j^iviinds 
WVc that, I'd pack lier out t>f the ht)use before nii;ht!" 
coui;heil tlie pit;;. 

Then he ckMided eontiueulal o)'stcrs, as having- a lki\or 
o{ ci>pper pennies. 

" C'.ill tuns insipid — miss the penny taste, T suppose." 

1 le dipped inti> deheious soups, exquisitely flavored 
vianiis, crisp, ilainty sakuls, marvellous /aft's, miracles of 
art in trufHes and mushrooms, antl a mild, benignant smile 
daw ui-il o\er his fit countenance. Tib watched him with 
i^reat anxiety as he trotted bravely anil cheerfully from one 
cii/e' to another, where he tasted maccaroni and olive oil, 
hot, cold, and nearly <Tf/ natitrcl ; still onward, to sip fra£:^rant 
tea, serveil in tumblers with sliced lemons, by obliging young 
ScKuonian lunuids in gay-ci>loreil caftans and sashes; then 
skimming lightl\' through a course of bird-nest, shark-fin, 
and sea-slug business; then leaving, reluctantly, plump 
ortolans dressed with savory chestnuts, and complaining 
of loss of appetite; then sipping more tea from egg-shell 
cups, and ga/ing regretfull)- at an (Oriental pilau which he 
really couUl not accommodate; then si[iping more coffee 
with a /«•/// vcnr ill' cognac ; then taking refuge in liquids 
after solids became an impossibility, and testing an alarm- 



Travels of an American Owl. 63 

in^f variety of wines, even to the insidious absinthe, which 
would have inevitably upset him had he not possessed the 
stcach'cst old head in Ihc world. 

A more beaming;-, bl.md i)i>; than the monkey led home- 
waxd that evening was never seen, lie did not explode; 
he was not cut off in his career of usefulness by apoplexy, 
and upon retirinj^ to rest he slept the sleep of the just. 

Was it solely due to uni;enerous sus])icion that he seemed 
to present a tj^reater expanse of surface next morninj; than 
he had done the previous day ? 

Tib had not well despatched the pi<,r millionaire, when he 
was pursued by an anxious and careworn jackdaw, with the 
in(|uiry had "he received newspapers by the last American 
mail ? " 

The jackdaw was in the leather line of trade, and wished 
to see if that article had risen in the market The jackdaw 
had many reasons for desiring a rise in leather — chief of 
which was his lady, the Baltimore oriole. 

Tib was introduced to the jackdaw [)arty of tourists. 

The Baltimore oriole was a most gorgeous bird. She 
was plump, and pretty, and fair, with a charming voice, 
which had melted the heart and opened wide the purse- 
strings of her rusty, old jackdaw husband even. 

She wore the finest feathers, sweeping magnificently 
behind her; she surveyed works of art through her eye- 
glass, and made cautiously clipped criticisms upon them, 



64 Travels of an American Oivl. 

based on every carefully perused authority under heaven, 
rather than her own opinion. She basked in the atmo- 
sphere of the tranquil South ; she saw the sparkling sea, 
and a universe of blooming vineyards; she roamed among 
ancient ruins rising in the majesty of decay, but she was 
not at all happy: she was not even amused. Why? The 
jackdaw was an habitual grumbler. At home, she sent him 
enormous bills for finery, and openly defied his indignation 
by requesting him to help himself. 

Abroad, this poor, old jackdaw, who had, for years, 
opposed the grand tour stoutly, although he had eventually 
yielded under a treatment of severe nagging, glowed 
savagely at beautiful landscapes and perplexing couriers; 
muttered at the delays of custom-houses, yawned drearily 
at the restraints of the table d'hote, and was perpetually 
stumbling into some awkward predicament, to the confusion 
of the Baltimore oriole. He missed his morning paper; 
he missed the excitements of the gold board; fain would 
he have jogged up the street with the friend of his bosom 
(another rough, shaggy old boy after his own heart) to the 
club, and forget that nightmare of his existence — Europe. 

One cause of nervous apprehension to the oriole was 
the jackdaw's conduct; another was the success of the 
parrots. 

The two parrot prott^g/es were very trim, very pretty, and 
had the glossiest feathers. They were complete echoes of 



Travels of an Americati Owl. 65 

their chaperone, but as the mincing affectations of the 
oriole were very seldom worthy of repetition, even such 
pretty young-lady birds could not make them other than 
shallow nothings. The oriole was a famous match-maker, 
and very popular with mother birds accordingly. She had 
brou-ht the parrots abroad for the express purpose of " 
polishing them off brilliantly. What if her dear Carrie, 
with her nice, genteel manners, should win a title ? What 
if, for little Minnie, kind heaven was ripening such golden 
matrimonial fruit as a banker, or a rich manufacturer. 

At the time when Tib was introduced to the oriole, 
several of her airy castles had fallen to the ground. Then 
" our own people abroad " - good game. Noble birds had 
indeed hovered admiringly about the parrot damsels, and 
murmured the softest music of flattery into the fascinated 
oriole's ear -so unlike the jackdaw's harsh, commonplace 
gabble; but they were shrewd, it would seem, about 
Mademoiselle Carrie's dot. 

Madame Oriole must fall back upon our countrymen m 
earnest, or all was lost, and woe betide the guileless parrots 
if they did not gain the victory, reach the goal, in the fleet- 
ing days of their youth. 

With what scorn and derision would they be received by 
pert chits of younger sisters at home ! With what chilhng 
contempt would the bland oriole return them to discouraged 
parents as unsalable merchandise ! ^ 

5 



66 Travels, of an American Owl. 

Small wonder that these proh'g<fcs strained every nerve 
to hop forward as they were bid, and that their smiles, 
which should have bubbled forth' from a sparkling fountain 
of careless mirth if ever in their lives, were forced and 
unnatural, knowing the doom of failure. Poor young par- 
rots ! Well-educated, good girls, with comfortable homes 
— no dark phantom of want or crime encompassing the 
horizon of their youth; yet ready to marry any octogena- 
rian on the brink of repulsive old age, provided he have 
wealth — any disgraceful young rake of fashion; any dull, 
unsympathetic fogy of middle age — his satanic majesty 
himself, with hoofs visible at a glance, to-morrow, rather 
than be returned by Madame Oriole as a poor investment, 
with an ominous shake of the head. 

Another sting of mortified vanity rankled in the oriole's 
bosom. She received no attention whatever, in the great 
crowded world where she was now launched, beyond a 
polite bow or a scarcely perceptible shrug. Tiiis was very 
unpleasant, altogether unpleasant. Here was the Baltimore 
oriole, who lived in a very big house, which was crammed 
with every costly article of ornament possible, in spite of 
the jackdaw's naturally penurious disposition. Her liveries 
were dashy : foaming Arab steeds pranced at her beck and 
call ; she occupied a prominent pew in church ; she was 
considered a positive authority in music and art, by awe- 



Travels of an American Owl. 67 

struck minor satellites, yet here she was jostled in a crowd, 
that did not know who she was, much less care. 

This same jostling with the world is beneficial, even to 
the most liberal minds : it does us all infinite good once in 
a way, when our conceit and self-importance are expanding 
in the delightfijl atmosphere of being the big mortal of 
some little place, to have them sharply clipped by a whole- 
some friction with external humanity, which has thrived 
hitherto in ignorance of our name or existence. 

What if the universe had jogged along very comfortably 
had we not existed at all ? 

This sort of conviction did the oriole no manner of 
good. She was simply enraged at fate. What revenge 
should she take ? Why, lavish the jackdaw's income, and 
dip into his capital on the richest velvets and satins, the 
costliest laces of exquisite design, the rarest gems that 
should glitter in diadems on her smooth brow, flash in 
necklaces about her snowy throat, twine in bracelets of 
prismatic lights around her plump wrists, twinkle upon her 
fat fingers — all to astonish her friends when she returned 
to that tiny nook of hers in creation. 

How the oriole could spend money, to be sure! 

The ancient jackdaw was reduced to the verge of lunacy 
when he beheld the pyramid of trunks increase daily, and 
thought of the bills. 

The sweet prattle of the parrots grew monotonous in 



68 Travels of an American Owl. 

Tib's ears, after the first pleasant sensation of hearing his 
own language in a foreign land was over. The precocious 
youth saw clearly that the parrots were flung at his head at 
every turn, and became wary in his movements, for the 
fellows in college had assured him such would be the case. 
The instincts of vanity, strengthened by the fellows' advice, 
made Tib a very wise young bird indeed — in his own esti- 
mation. 

He bade the oriole party a hasty adieu, to the intense 
mortification of the feminine element, and glided gracefully 
out of the acquaintance. 

" He is nothing but a puppy ! " commented the parrots, 
when they crimped their hair at night; and then they closed 
their bright eyes in slumber with the devout hope that 
another day would bring them better game than the timid 
Tib. 

As for the Baltimore oriole, she frequented the shops and 
modistes with more ardor than ever, and, as a natural con- 
sequence, the jackdaw crawled along the sunny boulevards 
with the pre-occupied expression of one too busily engaged 
in staring ruin out of countenance to notice passing empe- 
rors, and other great potentates of the earth. 

The hours glided on, and one pleasant week merged into 
another, while Tib strolled around in the charming City of 
Amusement, fascinated with that sparkling effervescence 
which, if " quelque chose de leger, de fumeux et d'insais- 



Travels of an American Ozvl. 69 

issable comme la mousse qui couronne un verre de vin de 
Champagne," is none the less enchanting to the sober, prac- 
tical foreign nature. 

So it came to pass at last, that there was a grand flourish 
of trumpets, and the mighty vulture appeared, accompanied 
by his lovely consort the bird-of-paradise, in exquisite silky 
plumage, smiles illuminating her pensive face, grace and 
dignity evinced by every motion. 

They passed beneath an awning of green cashmere pow- 
dered with gold bees, and supported by iron pilasters bear- 
ing escutcheons with the Gallic arms. 

Then the vulture graciously distributed bits of silver and 
gold, attached to. ribbons, to a host of hungry competitors, 
gazing down from his perch on the summit of fortune's 
wheel, with crafty, half- closed eyes, upon the struggling 
crowd to which he had once belonged. 

The East swept back her temples, palaces, and pagodas 
to her own realm ; the West resumed the burden of Titanic 
labors half-completed ; the South replaced her paintings in 
the dim, shrouded recesses of churches, her round-limbed 
statuary in the shelter of cypress avenues, and beneath the 
shadow of venerable pine-trees ; the North strode back to 
defy the hurling snow-clouds of her frozen home. 

Industry struck her tents and vanished, and the Great 
Fair became an event of the past — lived only in changing 
kaleidoscope-hues in the memory. 



CHAPTER V. 




I/O IV THE riG AND CROW ENJOYED THEMSELVES. 

|1B was invited to join a gay company of young 
mates one evening, in visiting a charming place 
of amusement — a spacious garden with gravel 
paths winding among the shrubbery, smooth lawns of 
grass, sheltered bowers in which to discuss ices, and a 
pavilion made brilliant with sparkling globes of gas-light 
even to the summit of the dome — where the throng was 
engulfed in a whirling vortex of dancing. 

The first sight that met Tib's astonished eyes was the 
pig millionaire, seated at a small table in company with a 
crow gentleman, engaged in wrangling with a perplexed 
waiter. Tib knew very well the strata of society in which 
he was mingling, and, Avith all the pride of extreme youth, 
he enjoyed treading the volcano's brink — like a bird of 
the world, an fait with everything. He was very much 
surprised to find the pig here, though — the good, highly 
respectable pig. 

70 




How the Pig and Crow Enjoyed Themselves. 



Travels of an American Ozvl. y i 

As it happened, the pig and the crow knew no more of 
their surroundings than babes unborn. The monkey liav- 
ing departed to rest from his labors for the night, the two 
old fellows became infected with the glitter and sparkle of 
the scene from their hotel windows, and descended to the 
street to enjoy it. The pig felt a certain triumph in thus 
acting independent of the monkey ; on this occasion he 
would not be worried by a galling surveillance, and the 
crow blindly followed wherever he led the way. 

The two strangers paused before the brilliant shop-win- 
dows, hesitated at the entrance-doors of theatres, and finally 
followed a crowd of butterflies, in the most natural way 
possible, through the gateway of this enchanted garden 
paradise, to see " what was going on." Ignorant as he was 
of the language that buzzed and hummed on all sides with 
extraordinary rapidity of utterance, the pig at once under- 
stood the significance of tables, and nimble waiters whisk- 
ing about in answer to energetic summons. 

" I never take anything at this hour ; we don't consider 
it healthy," said the crow, who had devoured pounds of the 
richest cake and gallons of preserves in his day. 

"Tut, tut!" replied the pig, reassuringly. "I like the 
eating here. But do you believe in the frog part? " 

" Oh ! yes, no doubt of it," said the crow, shaking his 
head solemnly. 

The pig put on his spectacles, and studied the bill of 



J 2 Travels of an American Owl. 

fare with great attention, although he could not read a word 
of it. 

"I don't want none of your ice-cream trash," he said, 
finally, and pointed at random to the list. 

The butterfly waiter stared a moment, nodded resignedly, 
and departed, to swiftly return with sojipe maigre. The pig 
looked slightly disconcerted, while the crow sipped his 
portion, remarking : 

" Well, well ! De-ar me ! What a strange people, to eat 
soup at bedtime!" 

"Look here, waiter; bring us some chicken salad, or 
pickled oysters, instead of this stuff," said the pig, coaxingly. 

" Mais, monsieur, vous-trouvez tout sur la carte." 

" I don't understand a word of that," said the pig, petu- 
lantly ; "let's try again on the bill." 

This time the waiter expostulated, but finally reappeared 
with some olives and a glass of toothpicks. 

There never was such a supper ordered in the garden as 
that of the pig. To say that the butterfly waiter had the 
patience of Job, would be paying him a trifling compliment. 
Sometimes he was bidden to bring half a dozen dishes, as 
widely dissimilar as possible, simply because they ranged 
along together; sometimes the pig skipped wildly from 
page to page; and all the while he was in vain pursuit of a 
flavor of which he had become extremely fond in this 
enlightened region — mushrooms. 



Travels of an American Owl. 73 

"Why can't I make the fool understand?" he exclaimed, 
in extreme vexation, after he had become exhausted with 
a pantomime performance for the benefit of the garcon — 
in which he had gathered mushrooms, prepared them for 
cooking, and tasted them approvingly, all in dumb show, 
but could not, for the life of him, think of any way to make 
himself personally resemble a fungus. 

" If it was a fowl, now, I could cackle, or a cat, mew, or 
a pig, squeal," he remarked, wittily. 

There stood the garqon in pitying silence. 

At length a brilliant idea occurred to the crow : he took 
an envelope from his pocket, and drew on the back of it 
one gigantic mushroom with elaborate care. 

An expression of relief overspread the waiter's counte- 
nance, a bright light of conviction pierced the dark clouds 
of previous doubt; he glanced twice at the crow's drawing, 
nodded his head, and skurricd away. 

The pig leaned back in his chair luxuriously, now that 
his labors were really over. 

The waiter was absent a long, long time, and eventually 
approached with an umbrella, which he opened, and tri- 
umphantly pointed out the resemblance between that useful 
article and the crow's sketch from nature. The waiter was 
never surprised at the extraordinary antics of foreigners, 
and he now sagely concluded that the crow and the pig, 
having tasted of everything his restaurant afforded, desired 

K 



74 Travels of an Auicricaji Oivl. 

to return home under the shelter of an umbrella, for some 
reason best known to themselves. 

Tib arrived on the scene at this juncture, and remedied 
the mistake. 

The young' owl looked gravely and reproachfully at the 
pig: then he ventured on a mild remonstrance. 

" My dear Mr. Pig, this is really no place for you." 

Instead of being at all startled by this announcement, 
the old gentleman at once assumed a defensive attitude. 
Was he never to do as he pleased ? Was he not old 
enough to take care of himself? Besides, why was the gar- 
den a better place for Tib than himself? He puffed and 
fumed with childish wrath; and Tib dared not say more, so 
that the only impression conveyed to the good old pig's 
mind was that the owl considered him too old to join in 
any of the gayeties of life. 

" My friend, Mr. Crow." 

The crow said he was very happy to make Tib's acquaint- 
ance, and then, with the most confidential eagerness, pro- 
ceeded to tell him where he was born, together with the 
most minute details of his career. 

" Made myself, you know," said the crow, briskly, and 
certainly with laudable pride. " Own half the place, now, 
and town named after me — Crowville. Property' is rising 
fast our way; perhaps you couldn't do better than to take a 
few lots." 



Travels of an American Owl. 75 

The crow talked like the perpetual rattle of machinery, 
fixing his large, hollow eyes ui)i)ii his listener the while, or 
rolling them abstractedly over the landscape. 1 fe was 
sallow, rusty, and wornout, with furrowed, careworn brow, 
gray hair, narrow chest, and stooping gait. 

The crow represented broken-down old age; and oppo- 
site to him sat a fair, pink, fresh-looking Teuton, in the 
prime of life, who was five years his senior if he was an 
hour. 

The crow had work to do in his day and generation, and 
he did it well, with increasing activity of brain, having to 
span great distances and grasp great results in a wilderness, 
while llerr Kraft do/.ed his life away comfortably, lulled to 
repose by the music in gardens, amidst pipes and lager, in 
a completed state of civilization, which called forth few of 
his energies. 

The crow was the beginning, the Teuton the end. 

However, in the busy atmosphere of the thriving town 
which the crow called home, with its smart banks, trim 
churches, gay shops, and eternal buzzing hum of manufac- 
tories, he had fretted his nerves to so keen an ^As^c that 
perpetual headache haunted his waking moments, while dys- 
pepsia was the nightmare of his dreams. Change of scene 
was prescribed, or the chief luminary of Crowville would 
be extinguished. How did he avail himself of the occasion 
to recruit a weary, over-tasked frame? — amidst the pleas- 



\ 



76 Travels of an American Owl. 

ant variety of foreign cities, tranquillized by the solemn 
stillness of lofty cathedrals, absorbing the peaceful charm 
of Continental life ? 

Simply by rushing over the country like a March hare, 
exhorting people who could not understand him, or he 
them, to establish a new machine. 

" I have never slept two nights in the same place since 
I've been over here," said this bird of perpetual motion, 
hopping restlessly on one leg — "except in Fogdom, of 
course. I like Fogdom ; I 've left the girls there now." 

"You have daughters, then?" inquired Tib, with some 
curiosity. 

" Yes, good little girls they are, if I do say it ; spent lots 
of money on their education," replied the crow parent; but 
he cast no speculative eye on the hopeful Tib, for he thought 
only of the machine. 

The girls might marry when and how they pleased, and 
Papa Crow was ready to "set up" in business any young 
man upon whom they should centre their affections, if 
necessary, 

" The shameful ignorance of these people beats all ! " 
continued the crow, indignantly. " I thought of taking a 
house in Alum Square, and sending for my wife. The girls 
like to study the Abbey and the Tower, above all things; I 
haven't had time yet. Well, an agent hunted me up one 
— good house enough, furnished, and owned by an old 



Travels of an American Owl. yj 

lady. Everything was arranged as to rent, and bargain 
concluded, when the old lady inquired what the family 
consisted of, and was told three American ladies — no 
small children. She raised her hands in holy horror at her 
narrow escape from destruction, and declared her house 
could not be occupied by American women — they would 
ruin her carpets, for they all chewed tobacco : it was a 
universal habit in the States. My wife, one of the best 
housekeepers in Connecticut, and neat as a pin, not fit to 
occupy a trumpery, common house in Fogdom ! I don't 
often swear" — the crow, in his explosive wrath was 
evidently perilously near it — "but, bless my soul! I'm 
tcm2:)ted to do it now." 

Never had the pig and the crow been so bewildered by 
flashing lights, brilliant music, and whirling crowds. The 
lightest of butterflies fluttered and pirouetted about them in 
giddy circles, and the two old boys beamed upon them 
serenely, nodding their heads in time to the music, and 
lending their amiable approval to the scene. Oh, fie ! you 
naughty old boys, if the people at home could have seen 
you ! 

To be sure, the butterflies did ddiwcc with unusual vivacity; 
but that was due to frantic enthusiasm of the national char- 
acter, in war and revelry alike. 

" Pretty creatures, ain't they ? " said the pig, as a group 



yS Travels of an American Owl. 

of lady -butterflies circled near, with their velvet wings 
spangled and decked with every rainbow -tint. "If my 
dancing days were not over, I'd just step out with them, 
they seem so sociable and friendly in their manners. The 
figgers are queer, though — never saw 'em before." 

Tib smirked with such superiority as the young feel for 
the ignorance of the old, in these later days. 

The two travellers enjoyed their evening immensely, and 
returned to their hotel in quite an exhilarated, not to say 
hilarious mood; yet two better creatures could not be found 
this side of paradise. How hurriedly would the crow 
father have gathered his two little sparrow daughters 
beneath the shelter of his guardian wing, at the presence 
of evil ! With what dignity and scorn would the venerable 
pig have turned his broad back upon the butterflies, in all 
their gaudy glitter, had he known their worthlessness ! 





iho Gooso.Lady, 



citaptI':r VI. 



THE a OOSE LAI) Y. 




I lie streets were narrow and dark, and the ven- 
c:ral)le houses rose to such a lofty lH:i<_;ht with 
slo[)in<^ roofs and carved gables, that they 
seemed to topple toward each other in the familiar 
acquaintance of centuries. 

An old town, rich in architecture and quaint scul[)ture, 
richer still in tradition, romance, and heroism, which repose 
in shadowy nooks, or reveal their history hewn in the mas- 
sive rock of church and palace, with no modern boulevard 
disturbing its .sacred antiquity — left stranded in the dreamy 
revery of its own memories beyond the range of the vast 
railway network elsewhere spanning the lantl. 

Why did Tib come there ? Not actuated by emotions 
of reverence, but to gaze at relics with the wondering curi- 
osity of a new nation — the youngest child of the nineteenth 
century meeting the influences of the remote Middle Ages. 
Tib came to fulfil the roving career of a tourist. J 'ate, as 

79 



8o Travels of an American Owl. 

traced in a pack of cards or the prophetic sediment of a 
tea-cup, would have taught him that he was rapidly drifting 
toward his destiny. 

The gloom of a magnificent edifice received him. Thou- 
sands of stone pillars, exquisitely carved, lifted the roof 
into space; forests of beams, firm and symmetrical, held it 
there, as they had done for four hundred long years ; altars 
in the stern simplicity of an earlier age than the gilded 
epoch of Louis le Grand loomed here and there in the 
obscurity of the place ; and the saints in their shrines were 
small and delicate in detail. 

Through the gorgeous purple and crimson tints of the 
windows, spared, because of their matchless beauty, even by 
the rude force of brutal mobs, floated the golden sunshine, 
threading the dim perspective of shadowy aisles, slanting 
across the avenues of stately pillars, vanishing in the 
immense distance of the arches and roof. 

The atmosphere, perfumed with the fragrance of incense- 
clouds, seemed vocal with the rippling echoes of choral 
harmonies and the murmured prayers of the multitudes 
that had trod these pavements and knelt before these altars 
— the steel-clad crusader, the crafty king, the scheming 
minister, now mingling with the dust. 

There were other visitors in the cathedral besides our 
young owl traveller. 

In the group, Tib particularly noticed a pretty goose lady 



Travels of an American Owl. 8 1 

with blonde hair, (who looked fairer than any saint standing 
in the halo of radiance from the painted window,) swinging 
a little bag in her hand. 

He would scarcely have guessed her nationality if she 
had not remarked to a companion, in clear, silvery tones : 

" Is n't it lovely, dear? Don't you wish that you were a 
Roman Catholic bird, and then you might say your prayers 
here ? " 

This remark made a profound impression upon Tib ; not 
that it had much sense, but it seemed to him, coming from 
the source it did, worthy of consideration. 

An hour later he emerged from a subterranean crypt 
which he had been exploring with great zeal ; and found 
the little bag lying on the pavement, a few yards beyond 
the spot where he had first seen the group of strangers. 

He pounced upon it eagerly. He would gracefully 
restore it to the goose lady, and manage to make the 
otherwise useless bit of embroidered leather serve as an 
introduction. What famous luck ! He must run the town 
over to find the strangers, which could easily be done in so 
small a place. 

He began the chase, and the farther he went the more 
perplexed he became, the more difficult it proved to pursue 
any one in these steep, winding streets, that twisted to the 
right and left in a corkscrew fashion, until Tib was hope- 
lessly lost. 



82 Travels of an American Owl. 

The other party might be examining the panels of an 
oratory while he was stumbling through the ancient por- 
tals of renowned hotels in pursuit, without obtaining a 
glimpse of them. Had they departed by railway again? 
Had they driven out into the country? Had they sunk 
through the earth, or swallowed fern-seed and vanished in 
the invisible ? 

Tib ran miles in search of the goose lady : he hopped 
through the long passages above the aisles of the cathe- 
drals ; he risked his neck on the roof; he crossed giddy 
stone bridges suspended in mid-air; climbed perilous stair- 
ways to the buttresses — all in the hope of seeing the flutter 
of feminine drapery in the distance. 

Vexed and disappointed, he finally paused before a richly 
ornamented building, blossoming with a luxuriant prodi- 
gality of carved design, entered the massive gateway, and 
stood in the spacious court of the ferret's palace. 

The ferret was the merchant prince of his day. He 
covered the sea with his ships ; he sent messengers of 
commerce far and wide over the world ; he risked vast 
speculations, and, with that shrewd ferret brain of his 
own, held all the threads of his various undertakings 
untangled; he even found leisure to regulate the public 
mint, and be intrusted with foreign missions of im- 
portance. 

Royalty smiled upon him and favored him with the most 



Travels of an American Otvl. 83 

flattering attentions ; wealth flowed into his coffers in one 
boundless tide of prosperity. 

No wonder the good ferret felt complacent, and said to 
himself: 

" I am a worthy merchant, and no disgrace to the ferret 
race, who have always been accounted honest folk. A 
nation has need of my services — the King Charles spaniel 
appreciates me. I may rank with the merchant princes of 
Holland and Venice. I will build a house that shall teach 
succeeding generations what manner of ferret I was." 

So he built his house, and behold Tib, an American owl, 
from across the seas, gazing at it, and reading the history 
of the builder's career in every nook and angle of the walls, 
after the lapse of centuries. 

The foundations, then, must have been laid with feelings 
of tranquil security, the central court being flanked on one 
side by the housekeeping department, indicated by curi- 
ously carved figures of busy scullions and cooks, with the 
ferret himself placed above them all, as if to encourage 
their industry from his perch; while, on the other side, the 
building expanded into spacious drawing-rooms and saloons, 
where the ferret played the great lord on occasions. 

The merchant was remarkably fond of having his pic- 
ture taken : over the kitchen door he was content to stand 
— a plain image, holding a hammer, as the symbol of 
industry ; but in the reception - rooms he must appear 



84 Travels of an American Owl. 

mounted on his mule with heavy trappings, and still again 
in the chapel, where he said his prayers when he had time, 
as an adoring angel in a droll yellow wig, and broad, flap- 
ping wings. 

Observe how soon suspicion and care clouded the ferret 
horizon, long before the storm burst upon his devoted 
head. 

The rear of the mansion had solid towers and turrets ; 
like a fortress it frowned over the moat and level meadows 
beyond. In the very top of one of these strong towers the 
ferret had his office — his den. Here he whispered secrets 
he dared not utter elsewhere, and the walls were wrought 
with many of his fears — royal jealousy of his power and 
wealth ranking chief. 

Above the office the cautious ferret had a vaulted strong- 
room, secured with iron door and heavy lock, which still 
turns after four hundred years of use — secured still further 
by a secret passage through which he could glide and drop 
his money-bags, if a band of rude soldiers, the burglars 
then in fashion, who used fist and cudgel to obtain filthy 
lucre when their purses were light, were forcing the door. 
No safes and banks in those days. 

Leaving the glitter of the saloons, the bustle of the 
court, he retreated to the tower and stood at bay. His 
glance rested gloomily upon the roof and chimneys, which 
were ornamented with miniature fortresses and stone frills ; 



Travels of an American Oivl. ' 85 

the galleries and balustrades lined with gilded cockle-shells 
and monks, the shield of another merchant family allied to 
his own, flcur-dc-Iys and bales of wool, the image of his 
negro holding a coffer, an angel bearing aloft his coat-of- 
arms. 

Then his thoughts crossed the space of country to the 
blue sea, where every breeze was wafting along his vessels, 
freighted with merchandise from the bazaars of the East. 
He was in deadly peril: he was rich, and the royal spaniel 
was his debtor — kings had a dreadful habit of paying their 
debts by making way with the creditor. The weak, cruel 
sovereign had been more pressing in his attentions than 
ever, since the heroic kestrel and the ferret, by their united 
efforts, had saved his crown. 

The ferret merchant-prince, with his sturdy patriotism 
and gold, the inspired kestrel, grasping the banner of vic- 
tory, kindling in her army a noble enthusiasm, serving her 
appointed purpose amidst the torture of the flames, then 
winging her flight upward to the heavens — these two 
stemmed the torrent, turned back the tide of invasion, 
when the silken royal favorites shrank in fear. 

Behold the grateful King Charles spaniel, when the dan- 
ger was safely past, training his guns and opening fire upon, 
the ferret. 

" You have coined bad money, you greedy ferret," growled 
the little dog-master. " You have sold arms to the infidels, 



86 Travels of mi Americati Owl. 

too, we are told. You have committed other grave crimes, 
which we, in our clemency, will not particularize. Suffice 
it that you march to prison, and we confiscate this pretty 
house for our own purposes." 

These were the tidings brought to the poor ferret, stand- 
ing at bay in his tower. Disgrace and ruin were to crown 
his labors. 

The spaniel had barked his orders, and must not be 
disobeyed; so the ferret was confined in a dungeon, from 
which he eventually escaped, wandered far away, became 
the captain of an expedition against the heathen, and per- 
ished in his warrior's armor — a glorious end for a Chris- 
tian knight. 

Thus ended the career of one who fell a victim to the 
deceitfulness of riches, was wickedly wronged and oppressed, 
whose memory haunts this palace of his rearing, where his 
quaint, sharp, ferret visage beams at every turn with a 
friendly greeting. 

Tib was preoccupied ; he could discover no trace of the 
goose lady in his wanderings. 

When the twilight deepened, he ventured to open the bag, 
hoping to obtain some clue of an address. It contained a 
filmy veil, a package of bonbons, a filagree box of lip-salve, 
a pocket-mirror, the photograph of a gentleman, and a vel- 
vet-bound diary. 
' Tib turned the leaves of the little book hastily, in search 



Travels of a7i American Owl. 87 

of a name, but all he found was on the first dozen pages, 
gushing enthusiasm over scenery, and vague hints about 
joining uncle soon — then, many blanks — then, mysteri- 
ous allusions to what " P. said about Q., and what H. thought 
of the absurd conduct of T." 

Suddenly Tib became absorbingly interested. The goose 
lady was not only pretty, and young, and fascinating ; she 
was evidently an historian. Her diary contained the faith- 
ful biography of 

Seigneur Rabbit. 

Many centuries ago, a worthy rabbit nobleman lived at 
court. He possessed courage, devotion, and intelligence ; 
these traits won him the regard of majesty, and he was 
appointed chamberlain. 

Courts had none of the polish in those days that adorn 
them now; they were rough affairs at the best, and the king 
— protect us! — was a shaggy, wild -tempered wolf, who 
went glaring and growling around, seeking whom he might 
devour, if in an ill humor, and whom he might exalt, if in 
a good one. 

The rabbit enjoyed the sunshine of wolfish favor in his 
placid way, never dreaming that all the cunning foxes, of 
which the court was composed, were snarling enviously 
over his prosperity. How industriously they bored and 
burrowed to undermine the excellent chamberlain, and 



S8 Travels of an American Oiul. 

how provokingly he managed to slip out his poor little 
paws just when they fancied them firmly bound ! 

Then more burrowing, until a conspiracy ripened, the 
wolf's mind was artfully poisoned, and the rabbit was 
blown high in the air. His fur was singed, his nerves were 
sadly shaken, yet he escaped with his head, which was for- 
tunate, for the wolf now swore he would do himself the 
great pleasure of slaying Seigneur Rabbit, the traitor, if he 
caught a glimpse of him; and as his majesty had already 
extinguished the light of some nephews that happened to 
interfere with his views, he was considered to be as good as 
his word, and not likely to stick at trifles. 

The rabbit was at his cJiatcau when the bombshell ex- 
ploded, and he would have felt the electric shock of wolfish 
displeasure rumbling through the length and breadth of the 
land — so terrible was the wolfish frown — had not a trusty 
cat friend at court sent him a hawk's feather, which induced 
him to imitate the bird's swift flight by crossing the Rhine 
and other broad streams, as fast as his feet would carry him, 
instead of exposing his throat to the royal knife, or his 
brains to the royal battle-axe. 

Across these boundaries the rabbit gazed back wistfully, 
hoping that time would soften the wrath of his sovereign. 

The wolf- king longed to kill him ; and his best plan, in 
turn, was to hew away at the barbarian wild boars that in- 
habited the Thuringian forests. So the poor little rabbit 



Travels of an American Owl. 89 

carved a path through these infidels for ten long years, and 
then he wearied of the butchery, and wanted to go home, 
despite a ferocious wolf master, and the scheming court 
foxes, whose sharp noses, and sharper brains, had wrought 
enough mischief already. 

Now learn what a wise rabbit this was, and what excel- 
lent precautions he took to keep his head still upon his 
shoulders. The wolf-king's temper was uncertain, fighting 
the Thuringian boars might soften him, having languished 
in dreary exile might move his compassion, and yet the 
prudent Seigneur Rabbit trotted all the way to the sacred 
city to beseech of the Holy Father such letters as would 
disarm the ferocious master of evil intent toward the bearer 
thereof 

Alas ! even if a single fold of paper from the Holy 
Father had more power than a battering-ram, in those days, 
best not trust too confidingly in it, rabbit. 

Back he trotted, this guileless chamberlain, who was 
good as gold, reaching the wolf-king's city on Good Friday, 
at a moment when the latter was kneeling at the great 
altar, celebrating mass before a veiled crucifix. 

The rabbit threw himself on his knees, presenting his 
credentials, and humbly begged pardon. The wolf replied 
pleasantly by slicing off the petitioner's head. Crimson 
with blood, the head rolled down the steps of the altar. 
That was the end of Seigneur Rabbit, but for his race it 

M 



90 Travels of an American Otvl. 

served as a famous beginning. He was amply revenged, 
for even wliile the wolf thrust his sword back into the 
scabbard, an icy chill of terror benumbed him ; the royal 
knees shook, the royal gaze sought the ground. 

A rabbit less in the world was of no account, certainly, 
but a rabbit bearing messages from the Holy Father was a 
terribly different matter. Now arose a threatening murmur 
in the very church where he stood, severe glances flashed 
beneath cowls, and offended clerical dignity boldly said : 

" You are guilty of sacrilege. Beware of bulls from the 
sacred city." 

The letters, too, contained proof of the defunct rabbit's 
entire innocence and loyalty, when the wolf- king took a 
leisure moment to read them. Best to read letters first, 
and cut off heads afterward, as a general rule. What 
to do? 

" Send an envoy to the Holy Father for absolution at 
once," said the spiritual advisers, and the wolf meekly 
obeyed. 

It would have done the rabbit's soul good to have seen 
his wolfish majesty slinking down like a whipped hound 
before spiritual displeasure. Away sped a messenger on 
the wings of the wind — what a world of trouble this little 
Seigneur Rabbit made, to be sure! — and arrived at the pon- 
tiff's bedside just as he was yielding to a more powerful 
ruler than himself — death. 



Travels of an American Ozvl. gi 

It must have been soothing to the mighty potentate's 
feelings, now that death was getting the better of him, and 
the sceptre faUing from his benumbed fingers, to grasp a 
last fleeting phantom of earthly authority. 

"Clotaire can expect to receive pardon only when he 
has given the highest possible satisfaction to the heirs 
of—" 

"Enough," interposed death, silencing speech uncere- 
moniously. 

The wolf-king pondered over this riddle, and finally 
solved it according to the ambitions of the sixth century, 
by elevating the rabbit's family to royalty. On a huge 
parchment decorated with seals and flourishes, it was 
written that the seigniory of Ivetot was a kingdom, and the 
seigneurs kings for all time, owing allegiance to nobody, 
ruling their subjects after their own fancy. The rabbit 
descendants thus became rulers of the drollest little king- 
dom. Their miniature court consisted of one bishop, one 
dean, and four canons — all parish cure's; a senate and 
privy council — all notaries; ladies of the bedchamber — 
tenants' daughters; bodyguard — gardeners; master of the 
horse — the groom; a herald — the footman ; a keeper of 
the forests — the bailiff. 

The rabbit king could bring a mighty army of one hun- 
dred soldiers into the field, and bid them shoot at the whole 
world, even using the wolf-king as a target. The good little 



Q2 Travels of an American Oivl. 

kings never made war with their neighbors, however; they 
were the most sensible rulers in history, with an amount of 
sagacity seldom found beneath a kingly crown. When a 
rabbit ascended the throne, he put the seals and royal purse 
in his own pocket; he minded his own business; he had 
no court intrigues, nor troubled his head about glittering 
aspirations; he lived in the old chdtcau with his tenants 
about him ; he ate good dinners and drank rich wine ; jog- 
ged out on fat little donkeys, escorted by fat little dogs ; 
jogged home again to pull a comfortable nightcap over 
his ears in slumber; until he slept the last, peaceful sleep 
in the quiet cemetery, and another rabbit reigned in his 
stead. 

Pity that these jolly little rulers of a small domain 
were not still in existence, to claim the respect of the 
universe. 

It happened that the last of their line became demoral- 
ized, felt the influence of royal fashions even in his rustic 
chciteau, and appeared at the larger court as prince — the 
dastardly rabbit ! A great revolution swept away the king- 
dom of Ivetot, and stripped him of rank also. 

Well might the race carry themselves with dignity verg- 
ing on arrogance. Had they not been kings for thirteen 
centuries, and was not their great rabbit ancestor slain by 
the grim wolf on the steps of the altar? Better still, had 
they not done their duty in their little way, like the sober, 



Travels of an American Otvl. 93 

faithful rabbits they were, which consisted of eating, 
drinking, sleeping, and riding out on the fat donkeys, 
to praise the thriving babies and smile on the rosy 
maidens ? 

All honor to the shades of the departed miniature king- 
dom ! 

Tib placed the bag tenderly among the cravats and razor- 
cases of his portmanteau, shielding it from the public gaze 
with the folds of his best waistcoat. Then he strolled forth 
to smoke his cigar in a romantic mood, and reflect upon 
the probabilities of the goose lady's affections being dis- 
engaged. 

The moonlight shone full and bright upon the quiet town, 
the gable-ended houses outlined sharply against the sky, 
with the upper stories throwing such deep shadows by their 
projection, that the narrow streets were obscured in dark- 
ness, where the shrouded doorways of ancient dwellings 
held the secrets of by-gone days in silence and gloom. In 
solemn, tranquil beauty stood the cathedral, bathed in the 
silvery radiance which sparkled on the brimming waters of 
the fountain in the market-place, and rested in the calm, sad 
halo of imaginative memories upon the towers and ramparts 
of the ferret's palace, draped with ghostly banners, crowned 
with ghostly garlands. 

Among these stately monuments rambled our insignifi- 



94 Travels of an American Oivl. 

cant little Tib, bothering his head about the goose lady's 
affairs, spinning gossamer threads of revery about her — 
lighting a second cigar, with many savage puffs of smoke, 
as a jealous pang suggested the individual of the photo- 
graph. 

" By Jove ! I will find her yet," said the owl energetically, 
piqued by his ill success of the day, and attaching import- 
ance to the pursuit simply because it was difficult. 





The Railway Carriage. 



CHAPTER VII. 



A JiAILWAY CARRIAGE. 




HEN Tib took his seat in the first-class carriage 
from the City of Amusement to the sea, he found 
it was already nearly full, and he began to study 
his neighbors with the vivid interest one is apt to feel under 
such circumstances, before the freshness of novelty has been 
effaced. Opposite to him was seated a venerable blackbird, 
of sombre, not to say dismal aspect, who occasionally 
heaved deep sighs without any visible cause, unless they 
were occasioned by the dreariness of his own thoughts. 
Beside the blackbird was a magpie in spectacles, who was 
not as young as she once had been, and of a sallow com- 
plexion, yet she repaired the ravages of time by a jaunty 
youthfulness of apparel that was truly commendable. She 
wore a small hat perched on her head, which was further 
adorned with quantities of curls, braids, and puffs of false 
hair ; her boots were natty, and her dress neat. Altogether 
she was a very sprightly magpie in appearance, and the ele- 

95 



g6 Travels of an Amcricaji Owl. 

gancc of her deportment was exceptionable, while it sug- 
gested the school-room. 

It was impossible for the magpie to forget, in general 
conversation, that she was not standing majestically upon 
a platform, with dozens of bright eyes fixed upon her, and 
many young ears drinking in the words of wisdom which 
fell from her lips. She was a school-marm from the Dough- 
nut Coast : she had earned the requisite means herself to 
visit Europe, and her scholars would never hear the last of 
the trip to the end of time — if she did not many during 
her travels, which {entrc nous) she fully intended doing, 
although she firmly declared that she was not in any hurry 
to change her free state, that marriage was a fearful risk, 
that, when one looked into such unhappy families, one 
might well hesitate about taking the fatal step, ct cetera. 

Having wrapped herself about in this pleasant illusion, 
and fancying that she had thrown moonshine in every one's 
eyes likewise, she proceeded to peer keenly through her 
spectacles for the coming man. 

The magpie was the blackbird's daughter, and the worthy 
blackbird — a minister of the old Puritan stamp — had been 
sent abroad by a generous parish. He was not a placid 
Christian, winning souls by a hopeful cheerfulness and gen- 
tleness of manner; he was dark, stern, and severe, and 
hurled the curses of Old Testament prophecies at guilty 
sinners, crushing them to the earth. The blackbird, carry- 



Travels of an American Oivl. 97 

ing a chilling grave-yard atmosphere about him constantly, 
lived in the clearest noonday of duty within himself, yet 
only oblique rays fell upon his flock, and he none the less 
belonged to a past dispensation. 

Moreover, a generation was rising that knew him not, 
and a rank fungi growth of Adventists, Spiritualists, and 
other strange sects were springing up under his very nose 
— the reaction. 

The blackbird was not wholly pleased with what he saw 
about him in foreign lands and among stranger people. 
His ideas were disturbed, lie liked to believe that his 
obscure home on the Doughnut Coast was the exact centre 
of the universe, from which radiated all the civilization and 
refinement enjoyed by the outside world. It pleased him 
to believe that, and did nobody any harm. He pitied per- 
sons who did not agree with him in political matters as 
fools, and he scorned those whose, religious proclivities 
leaned to other forms of worship. There was very little 
humility about the blackbird, considering his vocation; 
and he drew comparisons between every beautiful city he 
entered, and that same home of his, which were eminently 
satisfactory to himself; — yet he was sadly jostled and 
shaken about in his system of ideas. He had no doubt 
that he was correct in everything, of course; still he felt 
that the task would be greater than he could undertake, to 
set so many whole nations right — therefore he sighed. 
7 N 



98 Travels of an American Owl. 

Beyond the magpie was a lonely figure, which formed a 
very striking contrast to the dressy school -mistress. It 
was a melancholy raven lady, robed in rusty black, with a 
long crape veil. While the magpie's costume was stylish 
as possible, the raven's seemed to be purposely faded and 
shabby — in different ways they both sought to attract the 
public eye. 

The raven's face was pale, her eyes were pale, her hair 
was pale : she presented a singularly washed-out and dilapi- 
dated appearance, which was increased by the various rents 
and holes in the fingers of her gloves. She held in her 
hand a volume of poetry, and her pale eyes were occasion- 
ally turned upon her companions with a fixed, expression- 
less stare, as if they were so many blank stone walls. 

Beside Tib was a third bird, of far more attractive appear- 
ance than either of the others. The hawk lady was glossy 
and handsome, with bright, piercing eyes, and sharp beak. 
She had avoided the extreme shabbiness of apparel peculiar 
to the melancholy raven, and her silks, her flounces, her 
vivid-tinted wrappings were worn with a careless ease which 
contrasted with the anxious nicety of the magpie's costume. 

Tib was not gifted with extraordinary penetration, but 
he divined, at once, that these birds were his own country- 
women, and he rather dreaded the idea of having the hawk 
pounce upon him, armed with her sharp talons of argument. 
He knew, before they opened their lips, that the magpie 



Travels of an American Owl. 99 

would address the blackbird as "pa," (pronounced par,) and 
that any amusin^^ suggestion would make her "larf;"he 
also divined that the raven would address her parent as 
" paw " instead, and that the hawk, if she was not too well 
educated, might lapse into the grating " I seen " of her 
meridian. 

However, the young owl made no advance toward their 
acquaintance, but waited in secret amusement until the 
fountains of speech should thaw ; the magpie, and the 
venerable blackbird especially, seemed restless under the 
restraints of silence. 

Tib negligently and skilfully inserted his eye-glass into 
one eye, and stared admiringly at the lovely dove opposite, 
who flashed a soft electric glance back. The dove was a 
charming Viennese actress, winningly persuasive in look 
and gesture, with rounded outlines, and delicious dimples 
clothed in down. The dove presented only a downy sur- 
face to the world, although she may have possessed an equal 
amount of feminine shrewdness with the magpie or the 
hawk, and she was attended by two devoted slaves to her 
genius, or her pretty self: — a fat, paunchy little count of a 
dormouse, who gazed sentimentally at the dove until he 
dozed, and a savage mole, with terrible military whiskers, 
and the finest velvet coat on his back. The dove drained 
the purses of these animals without remorse, and in return 
she was always good-humored, coquettish, and graceful, and 



100 Travels of an American Oiul. 

was always assuming the most ravishing attitudes, withal a 
trifle theatrical. If any one person enjoyed herself, it was 
the dove lady. 

She prattled stinging sarcasms with the guileless inno- 
cence of a child ; and how her two attendant old boys did 
relish the sauce piquantc ; her laughter was like the musical 
chime of silver bells; and occasionally she trilled gushing 
little melodies as pure and sweet as those which swell from 
a canary's throat. 

At one moment she would perch a bewildering velvet 
cap, all embroidery and glittering fringe, upon her blonde 
hair, and nestle back among her luxurious mantles to 
repose, while the dormouse gloated sloAvly over her long 
eyelashes ; then she would open her bright eyes merrily, 
and command the mole to unlock a case containing exqui- 
site liqueur- glasses, richly gilded, then a second, which 
revealed case-bottles of crimson and yellow tinted cordials, 
then a third, of candied fruits and crystallized bonbons, and 
still a fourth, of dainty confectionery, all of which the dove 
proceeded to enjoy at her leisure. 

The blackbird sighed more profoundly than usual, at this 
evidence of extravagance and depravity, and murmured 
something about " the Maine liquor law not being as effec- 
tive in these parts as it should be." 

Tib knew that the exasperating loveliness of the Vienna 



Travels of an American Owl. joi 

dove would "draw out the other women," as he elegantly 
expressed it, " if anything would," and he was right. 

The magpie, the hawk, and even the raven gazed at the 
unconscious dove with the most severely virtuous disappro- 
bation. Simultaneously they each took from their satchels 
three small leather books, unclasped them, and proceeded 
to make notes. 

That of the raven was darkly mysterious : 
"I have seen one of them, at last! Describe satanic 
beauty of face — artful seductiveness of manner toward 
men — fair shrine of ruin and desolation, etc. (Good head- 
ing for chapter thirty-nine.)" 
The hawk wrote : 

" Rather faster than our New York women of that class. 
I confess myself surprised at her audacity, although one 
does not expect ever to be surprised after a daily promenade 
on our Broadway for seven years. I shall make her the 
subject of my next article for the 'Daily Moon.'" 
The magpie's entry read thus : 

" It pains me to state that I am breathing the same atmo- 
sphere with one of the most infamous specimens of the 
demi-monde. I trust that I shall not feel my purity of con- 
duct contaminated. ' The rain descends upon the just and 
the unjust.'" 

"How did you know her name so soon, Sophrony?" 



103 Traviis of an American Owf. 

whispered the blackbird, peering over her shoulder. "T>rwi- 
vioN(fi\ donirande — humph! French, I suppose." 

"Any person wouki know her name, par," replioil the 
niai;pii\ priuil\-; and tin- hlaikbirtl subsided, much impressed 
with his il.uiiditei's talents. 

Thr (\k^\c till Tilled her destiny in life quite as honorably 
as her merciless critics; she was marrieil, and her joj^^i^ini;" 
old hare husbaiul sal ([iiietly smokini^ his pipe in the sun, 
ci>ntciitiHl that she should earn any amount ci'i thalers on 
the sta^e, and receixe the ailmiration to which her place in 
the dramatic profession entitleil her. The hare was not of 
a jealous disposition, nor had he ,\\\y cause for jealousy in 
the conduct of his dove. 

A bond (^^ sN'mpathy was thus eslablishctl between the 
travellers; the\' Kniked unutterable thin_i;s at each other, 
and slowly elevated their ej-ebrows. 

". Is it possible that we are both daughters of the West, 
and speak the same dear tongue?" inquired the magpie of 
the hawk. 

"So it seems." replied the hawk, rather dr)-l\'. 

Here let us remark that the hawk had enjoyed a great 
variety of callings, considering her years. .She had been, 
anil was still, a newspaper correspondent, and magazine 
cimtiibutor i^f rac)- qu.ilil)'; she was a member of several 
liteiars' societies; she was a thieiit lecturer; and she was 
prepared to stand by woman's rights, or die. With all 



Trd:r/s of a// ^li/ii-ricnn Oiof. ic^ 

these //7Wrwr/<' Irails, tlic h.iwk had no nonsense about her; 
slie was fontl o{ divss, and saw no ix-ason why she need 
tnakc a hii^ht ol hnst-If; she h.id a sharp, piunuin;^- manner, 
terrifying- to masculine foes if )'ou choose, hut siie was not 
affected or iUiberah If she ch'd not dive into the fathom- 
less deptlis of a subject, siie darteil at it from so many 
inL^cniously different positions of arjj^umeiit, with bewihler- 
int;-. incessant peckin-s, that she couUi liardly be termed 
shaUow, if she ihil skim chielly from the briUiant surf ice of 
things. 

" Vou come fnuii the l)ou<;hnut Coast, I presume?" 
observed the hawk, with a sharp, comprehensive ghince at 
the bkuki)ird. 

"Yes," assented the ma^-pic, comi)kicently ; then, in thi- 
same breath, " but you ? " 

" Cosmopoh'te," said the hawk. slirut;oino- her shouklers. 
" The raven lady lives in the Palmetto regions, does she 
not ? " 

*' I belong to tlie lost cause ! " said the raven, with tragic 
solemnity. 

Ihe raven's tone of voice was very soft, and sweet, and 
indolent; the hawk's had a clear, nutalHc ring, like a bell, 
not unpleasant, but i)enetrating; while the magpie's was 
nasal and harsh. The latter had nii)ble(.l at every dry root, 
and dipped into every science in the category, yet she had 



I04 Travels of an American Ozvl. 

never trained and refined her voice from a peculiar, sharp 
shrillness, piercinc^, and most disagreeable. 

The raven had not always been a literary bird ; her 
<Tenius had developed somewhat late in her career, and the 
seclusion of plantation life would never have ripened the 
fruit. All at once the raven stalked out of obscurity, a full- 
fledged authoress, with her first book under her arm — the 
life and career of some brave general — with which she 
belabored and worried the world at large, until a very good 
sale of it was effected. 

The raven drew vague and shadowy pictures of her for- 
mer greatness; told thrilling tales of midnight raids, in 
which her tobacco and cotton were consumed ; of hair- 
breadth escapes from brutal soldiers ; of great cities de- 
voured by flames ; and all these recitals no one had any 
reason to doubt, because they knew nothing to the contrary. 
The raven had emerged from obscurity, and what that twi- 
light might have been, remained unsolved. 

The Viennese dove, in the meanwhile, read from a mag- 
nificent book clasped with gold ; sipped more cordials from 
the mole's travelling cases, and nibbled more bonbons ; the 
routine of these amusements never seemed to grow weari- 
some to her. 

Suddenly the raven burst into a flood of tears, to the 
consternation of every one. She sobbed frantically in a 



Travels of an American Owl. 105 

paroxysm of grief, and macK; no effort to conceal her emo- 
tion, or check the drownin;^ flood of woe. 

The fat little dormouse count opened his eyes wide, gave 
several short grunts of alarm, and muttered in the depths 
of his waistcoat: 

" Der teufel ! what ails the woman ? " 

The dove, with an expression of honest sympathy, offered 
the weeping raven a glass of wine, which the latter tossed 
off hastily, then resumed her sobs, to make up for lost 
time. 

The mole twisted his grizzled moustache cynically, and 
grunted in the depths of his waistcoat : 

" These Americans ! " 

"What is the matter with you?" asked the magpie, 
craning her neck sufficiently to bring her spectacles to 
bear upon the raven. 

The magpie belonged to a family whose intense curiosity 
verged on insanity. 

" My feelings overcome me when I think of Stuart — the 
chevalier of romance — the brave officer — the paladin of 
modern times ! " gushed the raven, spasmodically. 

" Perhaps the lady requires more air," said Tib, speaking 
for the first time. 

The hawk's bright glance swept over him in an instant, 
measuring him from head to foot. 

" You weep over the death of a Southern general. Was 



I06 Tnivcls of an Anuncan Oiv!. 

ho .1 rcl.ilivc, ma\' I imjuiio ? " she asked, in her pitiless, 
metal lie tones. 

"lie heloii;,;s t() lis all, iiiailani," retuined the raxen, 
with ciii^iiil)'; then she dried her e)'es, and looked cjniU- 
cheeiTnl. 

The iM\'en was owe o'^ those l.idies who cry easil\', anil 
cnjoN' til, it miiil tlissipation to an extiaoixlinar}' extent. 

"ria\ed-oul ruhhish ! " nuitteied the hawk, who occa- 
sionally talked slani;-. 

The hawk was not heartless in niakini; this observation, 
and there wore jijraves on many a battle-field whore she 
shed tears lor tlu- /'///<•. while the raven waileil over tlK\i,'7vn' ,• 
but on the inesenl oee.ision she I'aneieil that she saw unite 
throui;h the raven's niotivo, and dospiseil her accortlingly, 
with such hearty scorn as one woman feels at times for 
another. 

As for the blackbinl, when he learneil the cause o{ the 
raven's i;iief, his countenance assumed an ex[Mession o'( 
pity, blentled with contempt. 

"Poor creature! Is it possible, that she exalts a rebel 
into a hero? " he murmuroil. "Her education must have 
lieen ilefeetive: but then she had lived under the Hemocratic 
vi^te, ami that accounts fiu' i_L;norance over\-where." 

'\'\\c raven did not hear this remark, or the vials of her 
wrath would have delui^od tlie complacent blackbird with 
withering invective and acrimonious retort. 



Travels of an Aincrican Orvl. 107 

The l()C;il prcjiuliccs of llic I.itly Mids wcicr hccoiniii;; 
ni.'inifcst, llic first bond of miioii sliimil.ilcd I)y ;i iiuilii.il 
ll-flinj; of lioiTof ovii- tlic Viciiiicsc dove Ii.iviii!.; cvapMialcd. 

'Ihc in,ii;pic, (•iiliciK Iicd Ixliind lli.it (carliil cdiK at ioiiid 
bulwiu k, willi soliil bastions of dictionaries, draw bridpcs of 
nuitlicniatics, bjfty turrets of nieta[)liysi(s, and paraiids of 
dead lan^fuaju's, felt sorry for every iiiiloitiin.itf nioit d iiol 
l)oiii oil llic I )()ii!;Iiiiiit ("oast, and led oil or.ilorio;; (roiii 
early infancy. 

The hawlc (lattered herself that she occu[)ied an int(;r- 
mediate position between the two extrcMnes represcnti'd by 
tlic raven and the nia{Ji)io — tliat a mori' direct intercourse 
with external eleineiils bioiijdit lier iie.irer to her bean 
ideal — a woman of the world and she took iiirniite 
delight in miiniekin|.r tlu- pe( nliarities of both. 

Commend us to the raven, however, with her battered 
banners of a lost cause, for a calm .'aiperioiity of disdain 
toward tin- codfish atmosphere of the niaj'.pie's life, (the 
single word codfish bein;; a delicious .san asm, wlii< h the 
raven and her mates always considered totally unanswer- 
able at all times,) and a laiitniid patrona^^a: of the hawk's 
fjay metro]iolis. The raven Ix lieved that she represented 
the only liijdi birth and breediiij'; a rout iiieiit could boast. 
Alas, poor continent! To be sure, she had always been 
compelled to send in a northerly direction for her boots and 
lier gloves, her now coijfiin' from the hairdresser, and her 



io8 Travels of an American Ozvl. 

jewelry trumpery, besides having devoured with avidity 
such new fashions as filtered from that source to the remote 
swamp where her family had resided something less than 
a thousand years ! 

It is a very good thing for a family to live in one spot 
for a thousand years, certainly — if they do not get restless 
during that period of time; but it is not well to boast too 
much about it, especially if the boundary fences are dilapi- 
dated, the doors swinging precariously on one hinge, and 
the cotton harvest return spent long before the bolls ripen. 

The raven gazed at the hawk in a pale manner, and 
remarked, in a tone of pleasant revery : 

" I was so much gratified at the politeness with which I 
was received when I came North. I had always heard our 
chivalry speak in terms of indignation of the brutal lack 
of deference to the sex in your cities. When I lost my way 
in the street, I was directed aright at once, to my surprise. 
There are so many of us among you since the war, though, 
that we have had some influence already, I suppose." 

The raven made this pretty little speech without any 
particularly spiteful intent ; she did not wish the hawk to 
suppose that she was dazzled by the unaccustomed variety 
of a large city — that was all. 

The hawk lived after having this shot aimed at her, but 
for the first time in her life she was struck dumb. 

Thus these separate atoms floated in their individuality, 



Travels of an American Oivl. 109 

as totally unlike and uncongenial as distinct spheres. As 
well have spoken different tongues, and inhabited different 
quarters of the globe from each other? No, the pressure 
of external forces would unite them into a firm whole, links 
of steel to band a great nation. 

In the meanwhile the magpie, the hawk, and the raven, 
thrown together for the time by mere chance, jogged on, 
sight-seeing, pricking each other with sharp thorns, and 
imbued with mutual, cordial detestation. 

So the train glided smoothly onward without fear of 
accident, and even the blackbird's usually disapproving eye 
rested gratefully upon the wide turnpikes, the trim hedges, 
the stiff poplars forming boundaries, the miles and miles 
of sunny lawns in this beautiful landscape, where there 
were no unsightly objects to offend the taste. 

"We have so much yet to learn," sighed Tib — comi)aring 
the scene before him in his mental vision with an occa- 
sional handsome house, surrounded by yawning abysses 
of vacant lots, shanties, and pig-pens, in his native land — 
" so much to do ! But there are plenty of workers." 



CHAPTER VIII. 




ADVENTURES OF OWL JUNIOR IN THE CITY OF SILENCE. 

IB did not keep a diary, nor did he intend to edit 
a journal, which should ever publicly inform the 
world that he arose one morning at nine o'clock 
and the next at six — what he ate for breakfast — his opin- 
ions of the cook — with a slight sprinkling of scenery, and 
the state of his health at uncertain intervals. 

He was of the opinion that only poor birds and beasts 
wrote books of travel, to defray expenses. 

For a month he had searched in vain to obtain trace of 
the goose lady, with a zeal that did him great credit, as 
developing the trait of concentrative purpose. At night- 
fall he grew moody and disconsolate with disappointment ; 
the next morning he started with refreshed ardor in the 
chase. 

To say that he scoured the streets of the butterfly capital, 
staring every lady-bird out of countenance, in hopes of find- 
ing the right one ; that he searched hotel registers with a 

no 







Owl Junior in the City of Silence. 



Travels of an American Owl. Ill 

clilio-cncc Papa Owl would <;ladly have seen directed toward 
his own balance-sheets; that he haunted churches with pious 
demeanor — would not be telling half of the noble efforts 
he made to restore a small embroidered bag to its owner. 
Finally he applied to certain sober, polite moths, that 
moved about noiselessly, and knew the affairs of every 
stranger a great deal better than they did themselves. The 
moths speedily informed him of the previous residence of 
the goose lady — (had they not counted every hair in her 
head several times?) — and that she had now departed due 
south. 

Tib was a changed bird; the bag had fretted him into 
a sentimental mood toward the owner, which was only 
increased by the obstacles in his path of fruitless search 
and delay. 

Guided by such slight threads as the color of her hair, 
the fashion of her raiment, which she might possibly have 
changed since she stood in the cathedral — only this did not 
occur to the masculine mind — he at length approached the 
City of Silence. 

Can any pen describe it hi the twilight of its voiceless, 
shadowy repose ? 

Pictured at sunrise with the first tender flush of dawn 
tingcing the carved portals of churches, the calm features 
of statues in airy niches against the azure sky; the pellucid 
waves that gently lave the marble steps of palaces, the 



1 1 2 Travels of an American Owl. 

floating tide of barges laden with fruit-offerings of the fresh, 
exhilarating morning. Pictured at noonday in the cruel, 
garish mockery of burning light, deprived of the softening 
veil of distance, time-stained and crumbling — a queen in 
the worn state-robes of vanished glory. Pictured in the 
crimson radiance of sunset, gathering the wealth of day's 
decline, and flashing it back in gorgeous effulgence from 
sparkling cupola and tower, across the sea's wide tract of 
liquid gold and amethyst; and sleeping on the waters, 
stately and proud in the purifying moonlight — a city of 
moulded snow, with lace-wrought spire and pinnacle. 

Whose transcendent loveliness has been so often described 
but never exhausted; whose island bells have rung through 
many a poem in sweet chimes ; whose Oriental edifice of 
precious marbles has spanned many a picture, with curi- 
ously carved pillar and ancient mosaic ; whose bronze 
horses have pranced into so many volumes already. 

Of course, Tib mingled with the throng of peacocks who 
inhabit this city, when they emerged for the night to stroll 
about the pavement in groups, to lounge in their casinos, 
sipping strong coffee and ices, to float idly on the canals in 
an atmosphere of music and perfumes. These birds made 
no manner of use of their legs. 

Unlike any one else, the peacock, languid, nerveless, and 
indolent, without Southern vivacity or Northern energy, 
drowsing through the day in the chilly depths of their vast 



Travels of an American Ozvl. 113 

palaces; sullen, if they have the excuse of crushing oppres- 
sion; apathetic, if left free; stately and dignified, as be- 
comes peacocks whose ancestors could find no worthy bride 
for their wedding-ring except the beautiful sea, and who 
wrested from their neighbors the richest Eastern spoils, 
and throve upon them. Perhaps, the modern peacocks 
reap the harvest of deserted warehouse and vacant pier, 
but certainly those same ancestors drank their fill of the 
sparkling waters of prosperity, fought their enemies right 
royally, enjoyed their ill-gotten gains immensely, wore long 
red cloaks and dismal masks, and pinched and screwed each 
other at home, in torture-chamber and dungeon, when there 
was no foreign diversion. Where the plebeian peacocks 
cluster about strollers and mountebanks in the centre of 
the square, while their betters seek more refined amuse- 
ments in brilliantly illuminated casinos ; where foreign 
birds murmur their own strange tongues, and wear the 
turbans, the tunics, and caftans of each distinct nationality, 
these same ancestors held the most magnificent tourna- 
ments and festivals, receiving sovereigns in state assem- 
blage, with the whole vast square converted into a saloon 
by means of a transparent canopy studded with stars, and 
spread with the softest carpets of the East. 

What an eye for color the peacocks had, and how they 
luxuriated in velvet robes, satin and brocade embroidered 
with silver, silken doublets, vivid-tinted plumes and glit- 
8 P 



1 14 Travels of an Aiiicricait Owl. 

toriiit;" jewels! IIdw llioy dc1it;"ht still to twine themselves 
ill sleiuler i;i>M ehains, liiikeil toL^ether with the skill of their 
cunnin<:j craftsmen ! Of course Tib entered the inevitable 
boat, and dived into a box like a hearse, which he had 
always heard was a very romantic \\\\\\^ to do, and sped 
away under the j^uidancc of a rusty but cheerful peacock. 
Music breathetl siiflly from passing" boats, where lovely 
peacock ladies reclined, coquettishly screened by lace 
draperies; colored i;"lobes of light i;leamed and twinkled 
everywhere, wreath in<j the darkness of massive, sombre 
walks like cjcms. 

"Time ami patience," nnu-muretl Tib, lolling back at his 
ease, when suddcnl>- he became electrified, and stared, not 
only open-eyed, but open-mouthed, before him, 

A boat glidetl gracefully near, and framed in the glow 
of flashing lamps sat the goose lady, a saucy smile deepen- 
ing all her prett\' ilimj^les, her golden hair rip[-)ling into 
bewildering tendrils that entangled Tib and the like of him 
in the sunny meshes, her glance resting indifTerently on the 
spot occupied by the young owl. \\\\o can describe his 
emotions ? 

He remained slrieken dumb until she had passed like 
the fleeting vision of a dream, the changing hue of a 
cloud — then shouted at his peacock, seized the astonished 
bird by the leg, gesticulated violently, imploring him to 
follow in moving terms but an unknown language. 



Travels of an Am eric an Owl. 1 1 5 

Although the boatman could not understand the words 
of this touching appeal, he at once divined their import. 
Had his training been useless? Was not pursuit and 
flight, mysterious skimmings through these watery streets, 
the first lesson of his youth ? 

The goose lady shot ahead. Tib darted after, turning 
corners with amazing swiftness, now gliding beneath 
heavily sculptured balconies and bridges, now emerging 
into the tranquil space of a silent canal, then drifting, by 
an abrupt transition, into a thronged thoroughfare, all life 
and motion. 

Lead on, goose lady, and punish the owl gentleman for 
his coldness to the pretty parrots, an indifference that 
might also fall to your share, in spite of your charming 
dimples, if he feared you were trying to catch him, instead 
of leading him such a tantalizing will-o'-the-wisp dance 
over creation. 

The winding passages, the sheltered alleys, the concealed 
doorways beneath archways, were all skilfully threaded ; 
but when they entered the floating stream of other crafts, 
Tib's heart failed him — each boat was so exactly alike. 
Imprecations on that peacock ruler, who condemned the 
gilded prows, the glittering awnings, the gorgeous curtains 
to dress in mourning for all time ! 

The boatman was equal to the emergency : he said 



Ii6 Travels of an American Oivl. 

something reassuring to Tib, and kept his eyes steadily 
on tlie goose lady's movements. 

Behold! she stepped out of the boat and entered a palace. 
Tib tumbled out likewise with such precipitation that he 
missed the step, and plunged headlong to the bottom of 
the canal. Ugh ! how the City of Silence tasted, all the 
slime and mud of centuries condensed into one mouthful 
of water. 

The boatman calmly fished him out, dripping and 
wretched — carried him back to his hotel — waited until the 
deluded youth had made a fresh toilette and armed himself 
with the bag — returned to the palace, where he moored his 
bark, and looked up into the sky, and hummed a plaintive 
ditty. He was quite accustomed to this sort of thing. 

Tib boldly pushed his way into the presence of the fla- 
mingo family. 

It is unnecessary to add, that the father bird stood upon 
the hearth-rug before an imaginary fire, and that the mother 
bird, assisted by her daughters, was worshipping a young 
pheasant of quiet aspect in one corner, who languidly per- 
mitted himself to be adored. 

Tib was about to apologize for the intrusion, when the 
flamingo papa advanced with gracious cordiality and wel- 
comed him. 

" Glad to meet you. We expected you at an earlier hour. 
The Baron of Intellect and Mrs. Flamingo." 



Travels of an American Owl. \\J 

The younj^ pheasant nodded slightly, and suppressed a 
yawn, which increased the previous respect of the party for 
his superiority, and their anxiety to amuse him. 

"I knew your father very well when I was across the 
water, in the interest — of — ahem! — trade." 

"Papa!" interrupted the mother bird, re[)roachfully. 
(The idea of mentionint^ //-(tc/c before the 15aron of Intellect, 
who had never heard of such a thing in his life!) 

To conceal his embarrassment at this reminder, the fla- 
mingo papa again warmed himself from force of habit. At 
least the pleasure of retaliating on the American owl was 
left, so he proceeded trium[)hantly. 

"Affairs have changed very much since I was in your 
country, for the worse. You are getting into a sad mess 
with your taxation and corrupt office-holders. Why do you 
attempt to hold such an immense territory, by force of arms, 
when it must inevitably fall to pieces? Yes, yes, sooner or 
later. You have the example of all republics. History 
repeats itself You enjoy an inflated prosperity. What has 
become of your shipping interest?" 

" You have sunk it for a time," snapped Tib. 

The flamingo chuckled and rubbed his hands together, 
gleefully. 

" The strongest proof of our strict neutrality consists in 
our suiting neither party." 

" Oh, yes, we liked your transactions immensely, and 



ii8 Travels of an American Owl. 

some time we hope to imitate them," said Tib, smiling 
sweetly — he wished to find the goose lady. 

The flamingo papa regarded him solemnly. In his native 
land there is a line drawn, and any bird born north of it 
was never known to take a joke or even understand one — 
the flamingo race had been reared in a northerly direction. 
He was not sure whether Tib was making game of him or 
not, but the Baron of Intellect knew, and there was a sly 
twinkle of fun in his eye. 

" How dreadful to think of your lady birds lecturing and 
voting!" shuddered Madam Flamingo, "I am told the 
mothers allow an entire and injudicious freedom to the 
daughters everywhere;" and she glanced proudly at the 
obedient flamingo daughters, dressed in sky-blue, who 
looked and thought just as she had looked, and her 
mother's mother before her. 

" Perhaps they are equal to taking care of themselves," 
drawled the Baron of Intellect. 

"Precisely — self-assured and independent," assented 
Madam, gravely, " They live on pie and ice-water, which 
accounts for their lack of color," 

"True, they seldom eat anything else," said Tib; and 
then he fervently thanked heaven for a diet which, if indi- 
gestible and calculated to make his sisters self-assured and 
independent, prevented their faces from assuming the gen- 
erous wealth of color that spread impartially from ear to 



Travels of an American Owl. 119 

ear in the flamingo fair ones, and which would deepen 
by-and-by to the hot, distressing purple of their mother's 
countenance. 

Tib was crushed by the heavy masculine broadsides, rid- 
dled by the feminine small-shot, and he was puzzled at his 
reception. Where was the goose lady, after all ? At this 
momenta third daughter entered — whose golden head had 
misled the boatman — followed by a young owl, who was 
the expected guest. 

How the flamingoes drew into their shells! How frigidly 
they received Tib's apology ! With what dignified reserve 
did they inform him that they knew no goose lady, and 
stonily glared at the poor little bag ! How humiliated and 
overpowered was he with their displeasure, when he bowed 
himself out, and sought the delinquent boatman once more, 
leaving the flamingo parents with the firm impression that 
he had fallen madly in love with one of their daughters, 
and had impetuously stormed their privacy solely on that 
account. 

The Baron of Intellect tapped him on the arm : 

" I know her.'' 

" The goose lady ? oh ! " 

" Yes, gold hair, splendid eyes, and all that," replied the 
young pheasant, promising to guide Tib aright, and dis- 
playing a boyish frankness of manner, that formed a de- 
lightful contrast with the pompous formality of his late 



T 20 Travels of an American Owl. 

companions. No flapping of wings and strutting about on 
the part of the pheasant. No boasting of the Intellect race, 
or tracing them back to the flood : simplicity of language, 
plentifully spiced with slang, and the weight of presence 
impressed rather than expressed. To be sure he felt very 
nice — very nice indeed — and he could not imagine any 
calamity equal to not having been borne to the Intellect 
title and estates. So the flamingoes went their way, arro- 
gant, proud, and lacking the delicate tact of their neigh- 
bors, the butterfly nation, rasping a wound already deep, 
not a type of any class, but just flamingoes in themselves, 
wrapped in an armor of prickly thorns, against which Tib 
had sharply stung himself, with this result: the next time 
he encountered some well-bred, well-educated bird of the 
flamingo land, he would begin to bluster and boast in a 
spread-eagle fashion — and make a fool of himself 

The Baron of Intellect was wonderfully at home with the 
goose-lady subject. "Have to stand your chance of obtain- 
ing any notice, with so many admirers already," was his 
warning to Tib, as they traversed sparkling vistas of chang- 
ing scenes, roamed through corridors, until they heard a 
sweet voice trilling some delicious melody, that floated 
through the open casements down the tranquil canal, and 
was echoed from distant corners and angles by the boat- 
men — these peacocks having a quick ear for harmony. 

" Her voice," said the pheasant, springing up a broad 



Travels of an American Owl. 121 

stairway with the familiarity of previous acquaintance, and 
seeming a trifle surprised at Tib's evident stupefaction. 

There she stood, in a stately apartment, embellished with 
every rare device of exquisite art, with listening groups 
hanging fascinated on every flute -like trill and warble of 
her voice — a great singer, and not the goose lady at all. 
Oh, dear, another wrong secret ! 

Hope revived within twenty-four hours in an unexpected 
way. In the City of Silence there is a palace, entered 
through a grand court, with cloisters, state apartments, 
spacious stairways ornamented with bas-reliefs, the peacock 
history traced in all the glory of huge paintings on the 
walls of innumerable halls, where it pleased dread tribunals 
to sink fellow-peacocks in dungeons deep, under the waters 
which wash the foundations, or stifle them in broiling dens 
beneath the roof — in the name of Justice. A marble arch 
of majestic design unites the highest portion of the prisons 
with the secret galleries of the palace — aptly named potite 
del sospiri — and toward this fatal point Tib discovered a 
lady solemnly marching, as if striving to realize the crim- 
inal's agonies when spanning the abyss leading to mysteri- 
ous doom. 

Tib felt sure it was the goose lady. Instead, the magpie 
beamed upon him, and the youth lost his temper. 

" I thought it was — somebody else." 

The magpie fitted an arrow and twanged her bow : 

Q 



123 



Travels of an Anicriian Owl. 



" lie is very youn^." 

Til) winced as he hastened away. O niai^pie, would 
you not willin|;ly be thrust through with the arrows of sar- 
casm, even as a cushion is Lux-ratrd with pins, or St. Sebas- 
tian was, to ivco\ei- lh.it lost boon — \outh? 

Iji due course i>f time it hai)i)ened that Mademoiselle 
W'illo" the-wisp smiled innocently from the window of a 
train (hat whirled over the lont^ viatluct, through miles 
(^f pools ami marshes, out oi' sii;ht, Icaxing" the despairing 
owl nuitcl)' i;a/.ini;- into space. 

Too late, as usual. 

Tib, the infatuated, left the City of Silence with a hazy 
remembrance of its stately beauty. The olitteriuL;" x'anes, 
the Oriental cupolas, nu>saics, ami frihlino-^ fa^leel. Palaces 
on which \hc luxur)' of architecture had been lavished, 
churches, treasuring fabulous wealth, rich in paintings ami 
statuary, columns of h'gyptian porph\r\', altars of jasper, 
agate, and alabaster, existetl no longer, except in Tib's 
memory. 



'^^.^ 




•i 




ClIAPTIUl IX. 

TIB AMONG THE CARDINAL BIRDS. 

[TILL intcMit upon what had become the main 
object of existence, now Tib journeyed to the 
canary-bird capital. Amidst the enchanting 
^ayety of the charmin<^ city he was very near forgetting 
his firm resolve to find the goose lady or die in the attempt: 
such is the instability of youth. 

No sombre peacocks here, gliding about majestically to 
slow music, but merry, light-hearted canaries, fluttering on 
downy wings from pleasure to pleasure in one long sum- 
mer of sunshine, changing with lightning rapidity of mood 
from grave to gay, from black storm-gusts of rage to win- 
ning, seductive caresses, from the deepest gulf of sudden 
despair and gloom to a no less sudden elation of enthusi- 
asm — frenzies of ecstasy. Tib was bewildered ami dazzled 
by the varying hues of such a life. Best of all, he liked the 
careless round of amusement that linked the year together 
in an endless succession of ball andy?/i'. 

123 



124 Ti'iri'ch of an Aiiicriaifi Owl. 

Memory jot;s^cd him gently. In a scene of matchless 
beauty, domed by a sky of intense blue above, a towering 
mountain smokini; his pipe leisurely, in slender stems of idle 
vapor, with \-ino\'ards and casinos cliny;in<]^ to his robes near 
by, the sunshine pouring in a golden flood over the white 
walls of villas, filtering through dusky avenues of pine, groves 
of citron and myrtle, and resting on the waves below, leap- 
ing, cresting, sparkling with a sheen of dazzling splendor the 
azure waters of the bay, a familiar object disturbed Tib's 
vision, and that at a moment when the inspiration of the day, 
the warm, perfumed breeze rustling among cypress-leaves 
and orange-trees powdered with snowy blossoms, the mu- 
sical pl.ish (>'[ fmmtains had lent to the owl's fancy such an 
exhilaration, that he was about to write poetry. Why not? 
He rhymes well with sea. while an)'body should be able to 
put mountain and fountain together with telling effect. It 
was Mr. Crow and his two little sparrow daughters. 

The sparrows would ha\-e liked to enjoy themselves in 
the b\'-wa\'s and hedges of travel, rather than in the broad 
thoroughfares. They were much better informed with re- 
gard to the towns they should visit than Papa Crow was, 
who mental!}' summed up, " City of Sausages, the Sam-Souci 
capital — wonder if I can make the machine go in those 
places?" 

The little sparrow daughters carried little guide-books in 
their pockets, and made little maps on cards, with lines 



Travels of an American Owl. 125 

traced zigzag across them to note where their little feet 
should take them. They asked advice of everybody, and 
read a great many books about jaunting abroad : the result 
was, they became afraid of their lives, such tremendous 
bugbears loomed before them at every turn. At home they 
trotted about in security, even speeding through the dark- 
ness of night in sleeping-car traps without molestation; but 
once abroad, the wildest terrors beset them. 

Papa Crow deposited them in some safe, quiet hotel of 
Fogdom, and dashed off on one of his wild flights in pur- 
suit of gain, leaving them to mope within doors, as they 
had been told it was highly improper for them to go out. 

The little sparrows sighed regretfully. They were shut 
up in a cage in the great Babylon which they had longed 
to see. Oh, dear! could they not go to church at least? 
The highly respectable landlord shook his head solemnly 
at the frightful risk they would incur of insult — and then 
departed to ridicule their simplicity and doubt. 

Weary of fluttering against the prison -bars, with the 
world so tempting beyond, one of them, driven to despera- 
tion, declared that she would go to the haberdasher's around 
the corner and buy a hair-brush, come what might of such 
recklessness. She paid dearly for the act of bravery. Once 
in the street, her heart beat quick, and she glanced around 
fearfully in every direction. The haberdasher's shop was 
reached in safety, the purchase made, but when she came 



126 Tra-i'ds of an American Owl. 

out, a dreadful, bold young pig-, in a "loud" waistcoat, glit- 
tering with a lavMsh display of pinchbeck watch-chain, who 
was perfumed with coarse tobacco and gin, winked one eye 
at her in a shocking manner, and nudged her playfully with 
one elbow. 

" Shall hi carry your parcel, my dear ? " 

The sjiarrow dropped her hair-brush and fled: so it 
seems very probable, indeed, that the unscrupulous young 
pig did carry the parcel after all. 

They made little proper speeches in timid French, and 
even the guides displayed a compassionate tenderness toward 
them which seemed to emanate from a greater depth than 
the usual varnished exterior of those hardened villains. 

Thus the sparrows pattered through Europe in the wake 
of the eccentric crow parent, lurking shyly in corners, and 
always screening themselves from general observation be- 
hind a sheltering wall o: friendly pillar, if possible, to 
chirp their own little opinion without being stared at. 

Tib felt more than half disposed to fall in love with one or 
both of them — they were so dainty and nice — and would 
have done so, had not his eyes been dazzled by the fasci- 
nating goose lady. Could he have looked into the two 
sparrow hearts, he would have found mirrored the image of 
a pale, theological student robin, who had overtaxed his 
health, burning the midnight oil, poor dear! and would 
enter the pulpit with less of throat and lungs than is usually 



Travels of an American Owl. 127 

the case; and a ]:)ri.sk young martin, hopping up tlic ranks 
from errand-boy to clerkship and book-keeping under Papa 
Crow's approving eye. 

When he greeted Tib, the crow seemed sunk in pro- 
found thought. He had just been examining a table with 
a dove on the branch in the centre, and the artist had 
spent twenty-five years of his life matching the shadings in 
bits of stone for the soft exquisite plumage. Papa Crow 
did not understand such nonsense. Give him the requisite 
capital, and he would have planted ten thrifty villages in 
that space of time. 

Tib confided his troubles to the sparrows, who actually 
knew the goose lady. 

"Her name is Tilly- Lilly," they explained. "She be- 
longs to the great goose family in the City of the Future," 
(Tib's home.) "llcr uncle, the western crane, is foreign 
minister, you know." 

A daughter of the goose family ? Fancy that! In spite 
of his conceit and assurance, Tib felt rather faint for a mo- 
ment, so powerful are the influences of childhood in later 
life. However, he brightened visibly. 1 le would lay pa- 
tient siege to Miss Tilly- Lilly, and marry into the goose 
family. 

In furtherance of this project he beheld a spirited en- 
counter one day. It occurred at the doorway to the cardi- 
nal birds' dominions — a very dirty entrance, with narrow 



128 Trm>cls of an Amcricaji Owl. 

alleys of dark wrctchoil houses, devoid of beauty. The 
raven lad)-'s woiKlly effcets were beiiii;- rutlely shaken and 
tuniblc(,l over by inquisitive and ollleious menials, who 
found it necessary to preserve the public peace and se- 
curity of the government by peering into the folds of her 
dresses, mouchoir cases, the crowns of her bonnets, the 
toes of her boots, and even lifting the lids of powder boxes, 
(a dismal shriek from the owner.) 

Aha ! What have we here ? Not a manuscript volume 
of sedition or heresy, intended to explode in our midst and 
blow us up to paradise, before we receive absolution for our 
past sins ? Oh, no ! 

How they pounced upon it and scowled at the harmless 
pages, holding them upside-down or sideways, gingerly, as 
if they feared the very words would nip and bite them. 
The raven turned pale and burst into tears. Her pallor 
did but confu-ni her guilt, and she might weep until she 
dissolved, for aught they cared. 

Alas! poor raven, well might she wail and change color. 
This was her latest manuscript of seven hundred and fifty 
pages, being her first impressions and emotions on ap- 
proaching the siiores o( the C^ld World. The labor IkuI 
been severe and caused her many a headache, for she 
had plucked a flowery thought from this writer, and appro- 
priated an obscure page from that, with great care, mould- 



Travels of an American Ozvl. 129 

ing the whole together with such skill that no one could 
detect the " cribbing " process. 

Moved by a divine compassion, the pig millionaire wad- 
dled gallantly to the rescue. 

The raven beamed a mild and watery radiance of grati- 
tude upon him, which diffused a gentle warmth of sympathy 
through his being. Next to the delights of eating, the pig 
enjoyed ladies' society. 

Among the cardinal birds the goose lady at last resolved 
into a reality. 

Tib introduced himself to the crane diplomatist. The 
latter was gracious, and altogether very much pleased with 
himself for having attained his present exalted position, 
which he was firmly persuaded was due to liis having 
made a speech of two hours' length in his native town once, 
of such brilliancy that it must have overspread the land. 
The crane's exultation was clouded by one doubt, however: 
several of his predecessors had been recalled before they 
had time to unpack their trunks, somebody at home having 
altered his mind by the next steamer. These suggestions 
were naturally unpleasant to him. 

Tib was presented to the crane's wife — a prairie-hen — 
and her family, in which the goose lady had her place. 

Oh, but she was pretty, and coquettish, and fascinating! 
Mow she caressed her dcarWwXc bag, and peeped into the 
precious diary to see if it was still intact! Mow merrily 
9 ^^ 



1 30 Travels of an American Oivl. 

she laughed at the recital of Tib's woes, narrated with con- 
siderable eloquence by that artful young scamp, and thought 
in her inmost soul, where vanity slumbered, that it was a 
nice and romantic affair, and would do to tell the girls at 
home. 

How many times did she whisper the important question 
to her mirror, " Is that stupid thing falling in love with 
me?" 

She was a thorough goose, too, in every feather, when 
she asked poor Tib as to the extent of his intimacy with 
the turkeys and the pigeon families, with a slightly per- 
ceptible curl of the lip. The owl became her slave, 

Tilly-Lilly did not object to that. She flirted with him 
at dinner-parties, where the prairie-hen presided, placid, 
plump, and helpless, with the finger of silence closing her 
lips, because she could not speak the language of her 
guests ; she wrote him notes on perfumed, slippery paper, 
inviting him to join in the rambles of the prairie- chicks; 
then she turned her back capriciously upon him, and had 
smiles only for a handsome cardinal bird, who owned a 
big palace, and was only too glad to rent portions of it, 
getting gain thereby. Nevertheless, his title was a long one, 
his eyes were divine, and poor Tilly-Lilly's butterfly pinions 
were sadly entangled in the web of so much glory and 
beauty. 

Was there ever such a favorable spot for the growth of 



Travels of an American Owl. 131 

tender passions as the cardinal bird's city ? To lose 
identity in a vast temple, whose roof towered to such a 
height that it seemed a moonless night, the tessellated 
pavement gleaming in the shrouded twilight of a remote 
distance, where clustering wreaths of silver lamps crowned 
a tomb, then emerging into the full splendor of gilding, 
marbles, and pictures aglow with the sunshine of painted 
windows ; airy, magnificent, gigantic in its grandeur. To 
ramble through miles of stately galleries, lost in wonder 
and enchantment, as chamber opened beyond chamber, 
and hall within hall, stored with a wealth of priceless 
relics and gems of luxurious art, yet seeking fresh beauties 
in the bloom of the living quite as often as in portraits of 
faded tints or the snowy repose of statuary. 

To watch the moonlight tingeing the tawny, silent river, 
lurking among the crumbling parapets and balconies of 
once proud mansions, glittering over an angel that seemed 
to hover toward heaven from the summit of a frowning 
castle, resting calmly on the dismantled majesty of a spa- 
cious arena, where shadowy tyrants again assumed the 
purple, and sat upon their throne surrounded by lictors, 
vestals, and senators, with the surging thousands below. 
What difference to the moon if her light tinged the savage 
beauty of tigers and lions creeping stealthily toward their 
victims, or glowed, serene, liquid, and silvery, in later days, 
on an embrasure draped in the wild growth of clinging 



132 Travels of an American Owl. 

vines, where the owl gentleman and goose lady chirped 
their little nothings? To gaze from sloping heights upon 
desolate plains below, Avhere once a splendid tumult of 
mighty pomp reigned, roads and causeways still firm as 
adamant, level spaces for martial games, legions going 
forth to conquer the world, then sweeping back in one 
glittering tide the wealth of their victories, chained in fet- 
ters of gold, cars and chariots, ambassadors bearing from the 
East gorgeous tributes of tremblmg princes, slaves leading 
wild beasts with vengeful eyes for the fierce arena struggle, 
captive monarchs humbled in the dust, though decked with 
the barbaric display of past authority, where silence and 
desolation now reign, the barren hills clothed in ilex and 
crowned with lonely towers, framed by a rugged chain of 
mountains in the distance, and stretching to shining reaches 
of sea in the opposite direction. 

While Tib fluttered about the shrine of his divinity, the 
pig millionaire, under the gentle guidance of the raven, was 
slowly puffing and paddling among tombs and ruins, listen- 
ing respectfully to her voluble descriptions, for the raven 
was a walking guide-book. 

•Although past the age of imaginative romance, the pig 
was not proof against his companion's attractive qualities, 
and the result was, that the woe-worn authoress landed a 
very big fish high and dry on the shore of matrimony. 

Prosperity agreed with the pale, dilapidated raven ; she 



Travels of an American OzvL 133 

grew quite pretty, with a faint bloom in her checks, as a 
dazzling perspective opened before her of unlimited satins 
and velvet — of publishing the great work (rescued from the 
clutches of the cardinal bird's officials) on cream-laid paper, 
with much gilding of cover, according to the dictates of her 
own fancy. 

The pig suitor regarded literary labor with wondering 
awe and admiration, especially as he never strayed beyond 
the margin of his daily newspaper, himself. 

To woo and win the lovely Tilly-Lilly was no easy mat- 
ter, the handsome cardinal bird interfered so mischievously 
with Tib's interest. Put yourself in his place, impartial 
reader, at a crisis in his fate. 

The night, balmy and fragrant, with the soft wind 
sweeping from the ruins of marble baths, and rustling the 
pine-trees of gardens, where the flowers exhaled delicious 
perfumes. 

Young owl approached the residence of the adored, car- 
rying a bijou casket, which he had ransacked the town to 
obtain, and paid a pretty penny for into the bargain, to pro- 
pitiate my lady. 

Voices on the balcony startled his ear. 

"The tiresome creature I Why could he not take a 
fancy to you, dear: aunt thinks it time you were comfort- 
ably settled." 



134 Travels of an Amcricaii Ozvl. 

Tib's heart alone would tell him that the sweet voice of 
Tilly - Lilly makes the sage remark. 

" There is hope enough left, I should think," replies the 
prairie-hen cousin, with natural acerbity of tone under 
the circumstances, she not being a full-fledged saint. 

" If you dress becomingly, I am sure it can be arranged; 
I will give you my owl suitor." 

" Much obliged. Perhaps, dearest, you had better take 
him yourself, instead of flying at higher game," stings the 
cousin. 

Tilly-Lilly tosses her fair head proudly. 

"Am I not his equal, then ? Have I not been delicately 
reared and well educated, and are not my fingers as dain- 
tily unstained by labor as the noblest princess in this 
land?" She begins and ends with something very like a 
sob. 

"That is all very well, if we could only make these 
haughty birds believe it," returns the practical prairie- 
chicken. " If you owned half of a continent you might 
make it go. I wonder what the result would be if a huge 
rolling-machine passed over Europe, crushing every grade 
of society to an exact level ? I think you had better take 
Mr. Owl." 

" I won't ! I hate him." 

Exit Tib, still retaining h's costly casket, a sadder and 
a wiser bird. 



Travels of an American Owl. 135 

"So that is the way Miss Tilly -Lilly plays her little 
game, and spins her little webs out of gossamer-threads of 
gratified vanity ! Let her take some other subject to make 
a fool of, then." 

Great dignity on the part of owl junior, but a sharp twinge 
of pain beneath his waistcoat in the region of the heart, at 
variance with the apparent firmness of his demeanor. 




CHAPTER X. 



BOAT-RACE B E TWE EN FR O G S A ND TOADS. 




HIS is the way it happened. The frogs and the 
toads had the same blood in their veins — a 
11 very good, rich current, too, by-the-by — and as 
a natural consequence, similarity of traits collided. 

The toads having a superabundance of energy, and a 
laudable ambition to imprint Excelsior upon the banners 
of the school where they were learning their alphabet, 
causing it to shine above all other schools in the radiance 
of their light, determined to lift the dingy, venerable edi- 
fice to a proud eminence of glory by the muscular strength 
of their own arms alone — a labor worthy of youthful 
enthusiasm. 

"Is there anything we cannot do, if we tiy ?" they que- 
ried, with self-esteem, not unminglcd with rashness, and 
hurled the gauntlet of defiance straight in the teeth of 
those absolute perfectionists in aquatic sports, the frogs. 

i;6 








The Boat Race, 



Travels of an Ainc7'ican Ozvl. 137 

The frogs nibbled at the gauntlet, and eventually swal- 
lowed it, but not until the process of digestion had been 
comfortably insured, the earliest maxim of infancy, and the 
foundation of their nationality consisting in keeping cool. 

" Fight us on our own ground ? " asked the frogs, slowly. 

" Certainly, if you prefer it," returned the toads, with a 
lofty disdain for such minute particulars. 

" Try our method, and boats ? " again queried the frog 
antagonists. 

" No, bring our own boat," proudly replied the toads. 

"Very good; as you please." 

The frogs gave a guttural croak of delight, soft, low, and 
confident in tone — then went home to dinner. 

The toads huzzaed, and plunged Into their craft, spinning 
up and down stream with such tremendous velocity as a 
preparatory practice, that they were soon black in the face, 
and had to be put to bed by sympathizing chums. Of 
course it is understood, that this conversation took 
place with the rivals at different extremities of a very good 
speaking-tube, some thousands of miles in length, which 
meanders through the dominions of Neptune without so 
much as asking by your leave of watery majesty. 

One fine day the toads, cheered by the smiles and tears 
of friends, stepped ashore on hostile soil. 

The porter-frogs, who carried their baggage, were hostile, 
and made bets on them in small coin ; the fog was hostile, 



138 Travels of an American Owl. 

and chilled them through ; if they took a promenade, all 
eyes were fixed upon them with the same hostility ; and if 
they practised in the river for the great contest, plebeian 
frog -boatmen, as familiar with the stream as the insects 
that skimmed the surface, criticized their style. 

All this was hard on the toads, and at times benumbed 
them ; it also aroused a courage, which, if it had been 
equalled by their physical strength, would have carried 
them like comets to the goal of victory. As it was, they 
had the satisfaction of making a breeze of excitement rip- 
ple over the calm surface of monotony — a breeze that 
increased to a stiff gale in the toad dominions, where their 
"backers" ran wildly about, casting money to the winds, 
and even reached the butterfly capital, making the inhabit- 
ants elevate their eyebrows and give little shrugs of gentle 
astonishment. 

The river glided past castle and town through the span- 
ning arches of stone bridges, mellowed by age to silvery 
tints, in a sparkling tide, loitered in tranquil pools beneath 
the shadow of cool, secluded banks, wound here and there 
in serpentine grace among the trees, expanded into a broad 
swift current of rushing waters that parted in slender strands 
to embrace some leafy island, then entwined again as it slid 
into the grove-fringed distance. 

The atmosphere was fresh and fragrant from garden and 
field, where the sun had sought the flowers to scatter their 



Travels of an American Owl. 1 39 

perfumes on the balmy air. Bright-colored figures were 
massed together upon the shore; eager forms clung to the 
bank like a growth of nodding grass, swaying and rustling 
as they watched the contest ; a dark motley crowd surged 
over the meadows, swarming from the slums and alleys of a 
great city. Everybody was there, of course, because it was 
the proper thing to do. The flamingoes puffed out their 
gaudy plumage vain-gloriously ; Messrs. Harmony & Dis- 
cord, of banking fame, looked on abstractedly, while their 
thoughts reverted to consols; Sir Somebody Something, 
whose fortune had still flavor of tobacco about it, bet ami- 
cably with a cotton lord, who, strange to say, favored the 
toads because of a lingering tenderness for the lost cause, 
he having heard that one of their number was of rebellious 
ancestry. 

The crane minister was there in rather a worse frame of 
mind, for he had received marching-orders when he least 
expected them. 

A young owl gentleman addressed him with feigned cor- 
diality, and inquired indifferently if his niece Tilly-Lilly was 
now the Princess Bobiolanciotti. 

" Oh, dear, no ! nothing of the sort," the crane replied. 
" Gone home some time ago. I report soon to Scrubbing- 
ton myself" 

Behold in this nonchalant, easy youth, our dear hero Tib, 
improved by some two years more of intercourse with en- 



140 Travels of an American Owl. 

lightened races. A Teuton among the Teutons, a canary- 
bird among the canaries, a butterfly of surprising vivacity 
among the butterflies, assuming the chameleon - colors 
easily, and divesting himself of them with curious rapid- 
ity, but never a golden pheasant, a flamingo, or an aquatic 
frog — oil and water are dissimilar fluids, 

Tib cared nothing about Tilly-Lilly — that sentiment was 
dead long ago; and yet it afforded him a savage joy — 
the mean-spirited bird! — to know that she was not the 
Princess Bobiolanciotti. 

Tib was accompanied by his bosom-friend, a Gallic but- 
terfly, whose name was long enough to — stretch across 
the channel at all events, for here he was, gazing at the 
scene with a droll, philosophic indifference. The butterfly 
was sadly puzzled to know why the frogs and the toads 
struggled and wearied themselves in that fashion. Did 
the chief glory of existence consist, then, in having mus- 
cles like cords, sinewy palms, and toughened, sun-bronzed 
faces ? Was there not sufficient pleasure in sipping dain- 
tily the sparkling surface-bubbles, with an occasional spice 
of hazard, or danger, or adventure ? 

Parbleu ! why need these young giants make blacksmiths 
of themselves, amidst so much uproar and deep -lunged 
shouting? 

Besides, the butterfly was sulky, and a sulky butterfly is 
a funny sight. He had a cause of grievance which made 



Travels of an American Oivl. 141 

him cast an evil eye on his unconscious surroundings. 
The previous evening he had accompanied Tib to a temple 
of music, to hear a charming nightingale sing, and the 
guardians of the shrine had objected to his personal ap- 
pearance — they taking the privilege of being fastidious in 
such matters. His appearance, fresh from the City of 
Amusement ! 

The stolid guardians did not care where he came from, 
so long as etiquette prescribed that his coat-tails should be 
of a different shape. The butterfly fumed with wrath. 

" Do they not visit my country in their ugly tweed 
shooting -jackets ? Are my theatres or churches sacred 
from their abominable pepper-and-salt undress? Yet I 
must change my attire to please their eye, before I can hear 
the nightingale — piff, paff, poum ! " 

In vain did Tib soothe his anger by lending him a suita- 
ble costume ; the very amiability with which the owl per- 
formed this friendly service only irritated his sensitive 
vanity still more, simply because he keenly detected a 
lurking complacency on Tib's part at not having been igno- 
miniously banished likewise. 

The latter's glory was short-lived, however. When they 
returned, the stolid guardian cast a withering glance at 
Tib's hat. Well, what was the matter with that? The 
stolid guardian superciliously objected to the color, and for 
the enlightenment of Tib, informed him that it should be 



142 Travels of an American Owl. 

black, whereas it was white. In the meanwhile the nightin- 
gale was pouring forth her soul in song, and they were 
losing the delicious strains. Tib tossed his hat impatiently 
at the keeper, receiving a ticket in exchange, while the but- 
terfly — smirking a sarcastic deference at the guardian — 
inquired if their boots pleased his fancy, and if their cravats 
were of his favorite color, to which the guardian responded, 
after a grave deliberation, that they would do. So Tib 
entered the temple hatless, and plunged into the obscurity 
of a box hastily, which small circumstance had partially 
restored the serenity of his friend. 

At the race the American eagle loomed in the distance, 
chatting, and betting heavily, throwing the contents of 
every pocket into the scale already weighted by a plethoric 
purse, while the lion — looking mild and amiable, with 
smooth mane — rested his nose innocently upon his folded 
paws : a tropical sea never smiled more placidly in a calm 
than did this formidable beast. 

The eagle was unconcerned, and gay. The groups about 
him were surprised and sorry not to see him whittle the 
traditional stick, or thrust his claws in his pockets, in a 
bar-room attitude; but instead he had two attendant crows, 
in the uniform of major-generals, one to light his cigar, and 
the other to hold his pocket-handkerchief and field-glass 
for him. 

A sound rolled along the shores, gathering in volume as 



Travels of an American Ozvl. 143 

it came — the murmur of many voices — as two dark ob- 
jects appeared on the stream, side by side, their course 
marked by a track of foam. 

The frogs had magnificent breadth of chest, their arms 
were tanned and corded up to the elbow, their oars entered 
the water smoothly and evenly, with exactly measured 
stroke. They were perfectly at home in the sport to which 
they had been drilled thoroughly in the best possible school 
of training, against each other, and they were provokingly 
at their ease on a stream of which they knew every angle 
and turn. 

Not so the toads. They had given up their own method 
of rowing, yet scorned to wholly accept the frog system, 
and so made a compromise in managing their own boat, 
adopting a medium course, which was fatal to their suc- 
cess. Besides these disadvantages, the toads, under the full 
pressure of emulation, had overtaxed their slender frames, 
training their weary nerves to the verge of cracking them. 
Muscles and sinews cannot be converted into iron and 
steel in a few weeks of development. 

The eagle thought : 

" I had rather break in a gold panic than give in here ; 
but the odds are heavy." 

The lion yawned leisurely, and stretched himself The 
frog lads could take care of their luck, yet he cocked one 
ear attentively to the shouting throng, and thought that 



144 Travels of mi American Owl. 

he should feel a trifle queer if the eagle flapped triumphant 
wings in his face after all. No fear of that. The slow, 
methodical frogs swept on grandly, their heads and bodies 
swaying to the work as one. The nervous, plucky toads, 
exhausted and anxious, pulled wonderfully fast, but out of 
form, and much distressed. 

" Go it, toads ! " 

" Well pulled, frogs ! " 

" Hurrah ! " 

" Now is your turn to pick her up ! " 

The electric spark of excitement flashed from group to 
group of sympathizing spectators. Some frogs hopped 
along the bank, keeping pace with the boats, shouting, 
croaking, and gasping every breath out of their bodies. 
Others crowded favorable points, reserving their wind for 
a suitable moment to arrive, when they would burst into 
a simultaneous uproar. 

Away shot the frogs, cleaving the water in long, sturdy, 
clastic bounds, and away followed the toads, game to the 
last, lashing the troubled current furiously, with the last 
effort of their spent vitality. 

Boom ! A sharp report, a puff of smoke, and the race 
was over. 

The winning frogs shook hands, striving to conceal the 
flush of success beneath a mask of cool indifference, and 
then aroused the toads' venom by hinting broadly that the 



Travels of an American Owl. 145 

contest was mere child's play to them — a boast as ungen- 
erous as it was unnecessary, since the victory was their own. 

The eagle — fiercely loyal to the toad champions, and 
very much out of pocket with the task of backing them — 
nevertheless took the affair calmly and courageously, phi- 
losophizing thus : 

" Matters might, and would have been worse, if any one 
else had undertaken the championship. The gallant toads 
shall have a dinner-party when they return home, to en- 
courage them a bit. Perhaps it might have been just as 
well for them never to have attempted it, though." 

Then the eagle made the lion a low bow, and flew away. 
As he did so, he confided to the winds this profane excla- 
mation : 

" Darn it all ! I wish they had not got beat." 
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CHAPTER XL 



TI/£ BIRD-OF-PARADISE OPENS A NEW CANAL. 




HE bird -of- paradise crossed the threshold from 
day to night. Her presence was a radiant vision, 
for she embodied the sunlight of a new era that 
rolled in a golden billow of progress over darkened lands. 
The ibis had invited her to make him a visit, very po- 
litely — a shrewd head that of the ibis — and the stork, his 
master, although slow and stupid enough, could be both 
suspicious and jealous. 

Bismillah ! What did the ibis mean with his grand man- 
ners? Was he anything but an upper-servant — a steward 
to do his bidding? 

A servant living on his own estate, however, that he had 
improved of late by means of a new ditch through which 
ships could glide and speed away to the distant Indus. 

The stork sulked, and then determined to make a first 
impression. " Should be very happy to receive the bird-of- 
paradise if she came his way." Afterward he would thrash 

146 




Bird-of-Paradise Opens a Canal. 



Travels of an American Owl. 147 

the ibis for his impudence, when the whole pageant was 
over. There was some consolation in that. 

The fair guest bowed her crested head, curved her stately 
neck, and assented. 

So a golden horn received her in the small end and dis- 
charged her from the larger one, (which is better than the 
reverse,) into a crowded city of close-packed buildings that 
rose from the water -edge in a compact mass of narrow 
streets, tall houses expanding into domes and tapering 
spires at frequent intervals, and spreading in blooming 
gardens over the sloping hills of the background. 

Lodge the bird-of-paradise daintily, O stork ruler ! 

Drape the vestibules of her temporary nest in the richest 
hangings ; deck the saloons with sumptuous appointments 
of gilded wood wrought in flowers of white and blue, ex- 
quisite porcelain vases mounted on glittering pedestals, 
clocks and candelabra of massive silver, crystal chande- 
liers sparkling with prismatic tints in the softened gleam 
of wax tapers; shroud her boudoir in Oriental silk of red 
and white; strew it with luxurious gray and gold cushions, 
spread a velvet wealth of carpet beneath the feet, freight 
the carved and inlaid tables with goblets all gem-studded, 
glasses traced with gold, cups encrusted in pearls, vials of 
perfumes distilled from subtle poisons in the earlier days of 
magic art ; veil the windows in delicate screens of lace and 
fringe, where the lovely bird may watch the sunlight glitter 



148 Travels of an American Owl. 

over kiosk, cupola, and sea, or turn to the flashing mirrors 
in perfecting those matchless toilettes which astonish the 
loose-robed phantoms of stork ladies. 

Have a care, stork ruler ! Progress is a very good thing, 
but what if it teaches your slave-wives to pout and storm 
in the captivity of their magnificent cages that they may 
not do as the bird-of-paradise does. 

Invite her to drive with you, not in the huge gilded cha- 
riot, drawn by horses caparisoned with gorgeous trappings, 
or the clumsy wooden vehicles dragged by oxen of your 
grandfather's day, but in a natty, graceful, modern carriage, 
with Gallic butterfly -outriders in the richly embroidered 
vests and dashy jackets of your liveries. 

How do the stork subjects like that ? Does it not disturb 
their prejudice to behold you seated beside the bird-of-para- 
dise, who wears an airy trifle of gauze and flowers perched 
on her head, and smiles calmly under the gaze of the faith- 
ful, instead of concealing her charms in a towel, as you 
wend your way through a valley beneath the fragrant shade 
of cool trees, refreshed by a brook of fresh pure water, to a 
distant amphitheatre among the hills, where the tents of 
stork soldiers slope up a mountain-side ? 

Lead her to your picturesque kiosk, gorgeous in ara- 
besque design of rose and gold, with darker draperies and 
gold fringes, at the head of the valley, that she may behold 
your army emerge from their tents to curvet, wheel, and 



Travels of an American Owl. 149 

prance in the plains below, obedient to the strains of bril- 
liant music, their weapons flashing, and the earth echo- 
ing to the tread of horses, the heavy rumble of ordnance, 
as each pass in review, while the Phosphorus leaps and 
dazzles like the frosted armor of a snake beyond, the 
varying scintillations of its surface contrasting strangely 
with the sombre hue of the sea of Darkness in the far-off 
distance. 

Tempt her epicurean taste with a magnificent array of 
costly viands, and then present her with the dinner-service 
afterward, to show that you do not mind such trifles. Con- 
ceal the dirt and dinginess of your famous city with ban- 
ners, and flags, and gaudy tapestries, robe it in a holiday 
attire which will render its subsequent neglect only the 
more repulsive, then waft your guest in slender, sharp- 
prowed boat from the shore, with lights gleaming by thou- 
sands on every palace, a chain of vivid fire linking together 
the range of hills from the brink of the waves to their sum- 
mits, lanterns wreathing the distant military encampment, 
twinkling rays of brilliancy outlining the masts and yards 
of stately vessels, many-tinted bubbles swaying with the 
graceful motion of tiny cockle-shell crafts on the shadowy 
waters, and over all the fiery crimson radiance of rushing 
star-clouds, the glowing disks of intense splendor that flood 
the scene with noonday brightness as the train of vesels — 
a line of flame — sweep onward. 



150 Travels of an American Owl. 

A famous theatre for scenic effect — only the stork sub- 
jects' money burns up like tinder on such occasions. 

Next the bird-of-paradise made a call on the pelican, who 
erected in her honor a passage of white columns, entwined 
and roofed with evergreens at the landing, and grouped 
pavilions lined with shrubs and flowers here and there. 

Being new to the business of reigning, and accustomed to 
gayer society than their venerable kingdom afforded, the 
pelicans were delighted to receive the bird-of-paradise, 
when she glided into their midst fresh from the atmosphere 
of the present, while they, in the prime of their youth still, 
could only dream of the past. 

How delicately the visitor brushed them with the velvet 
surface of her consummate tact and winning beauty, warm- 
ing the hearts of the brave with judicious praise, touching 
skilfully such fine chords that would produce harmony 
among the throng of scarlet skullcaps and national em- 
broidered jackets — no jarring discords came from the 
pressure of her light fingers. 

Then farewell when night had fallen, the snowy gran- 
deur of famous ruins, dismantled and crumbling, lofty col- 
umns and carved porches transfigured, glorified in the 
pale-blue fire of illumination. From majestic, roofless tem- 
ples, in ghostly beauty, statues crowned with the storms of 
eventful centuries looked mutely, calmly down upon the 
world below, of town, vineyard, and tranquil sea. 



Travels of an American Owl. \ 5 1 

Oh ! shades of the immortal pelican race, have you come 
to this, and does the splendor of your history only glow 
into life for a moment in the transient flash of Bengal 
lights and rockets ? 

The ibis, jealous in turn of the stork master's hospitality, 
rushed wildly about, building a railroad, decorating palaces, 
renovating steamships, arranging /^/^j-, and emptying his 
coffers lavishly, determined to eclipse all previous re- 
ceptions. 

Did not the remembrance of the evening on the Phos- 
phorus fade before more novel spectacles, when the cour- 
teous ibis led the bird-of-paradise forth into the thorough- 
fare of his ancient city, with a brilliant cavalcade of birds 
on foot, running before to clear the way, their torches 
flaming in long lines of fire, and dainty carriages followed, 
where sat the fairest flowers of ibis beauty, shrouded in 
silk and tissue, guarded by stern household dragons in 
gorgeous uniforms ? 

At one moment the modern seemed wholly to have 
driven back the ancient. The bird-of-paradise heard the 
familiar music of her own tongue on every side ; beheld 
large -hotels, squares, and mansions, with Western waiter 
birds skimming about restaurants, or superb footmen 
lounging in doorways, which might have held their place 
in one of her own provincial towns without incongruity ; 
butterflies pirouetted on the stage of a handsome theatre; 



152 Travels of an American Oivl. 

the more enlightened ibis subjects patted their kid gloves 
in a gentle ripple of applause, at the sweet tone of some 
favorite singer. 

The next moment her carriage turned a corner, and the 
scene had grown older by a thousand years. The winding 
streets, destitute of pavements, were roofed with rainbow- 
tinted shawls, from which depended chandeliers all ablaze 
with thousands of tapers, while tinted globes of light 
wreathed and clustered from space to space, of inconceiv- 
able number and variety, shedding their rays down on lat- 
ticed windows, and a multitude of red or white turbaned 
heads, swaying and surging like the waves of a troubled 
sea, guards shrieking their piercing cries, timid forms 
drawn up against the walls to gaze at the stranger, radiant 
in satin, jewels, and lace, as she passed. 

The lamps, tapers, glass pendants, sparkling crystal 
fringes of the whole world seemed to stud the roof that 
canopied these narrow by-ways, extending in bright vistas 
above a mass of gesticulating motion, where bronze skins 
contrasted with the yellow and silver of flowing robes, the 
blue and green and purple of sashes or mantles, blending 
to a gorgeous harmony in the distance. 

Bazaars yielded their costliest treasures, sacred temples 
revealed their twilight-screened mysteries for the first time 
to unbelieving eyes ; the river offered the tribute of its 
sweetest incense in the cup of a lotus-blossom. The bird- 



Travels of an American Owl. 153 

of-paradise held the magic key, and the frowning gateways 
of proud superstition flew open, displaying the precious 
though tarnished coronet of antiquity. In the meanwhile 
the beaver , stood on a fine pier surveying his completed 
labor. Had a beaver ever greater cause for satisfaction ? 
To discover one's appointed task in this world, and then do 
it, in spite of obstacles, is to have fulfilled destiny. 

Years before, the beaver had spanned the same scene 
with one comprehensive, keen glance, and said firmly : 

"I will do it." 

He saw a low strip of sand projecting into the sea, with- 
out any of the natural resources of a fertile region to furnish 
supplies for the maintenance of towns, a dry, arid waste of 
desert spreading in yellow billows into the distance, and 
an atmosphere of stifling heat. An unpromising prospect 
enough, but this brave-hearted beaver did not quail, even 
though the undertaking before him was already scarred 
with the failures of previous attempts. 

The ibis nation had weighed the importance of the work 
in the earliest twilight of creation, one or two of their 
rulers having slain thousands of subjects in the enterprise, 
only to have a successor destroy the route to starve out a 
rebellious province. Vulcan I. had an eye to its advan- 
tages, and would have slashed a trench through from sea to 
sea with his sword, such was his impetousity, had his at- 
tention not been diverted to other matters. Having spied 

U 



154 Travels of an American Oivl. 

out the land the beaver made a low bow to the ibis, who 
was shrewd enough to perceive that it was for his advan- 
tage to have this industrious animal laboring for him, and 
promised to aid him by every means in his power. 

The stork master must next be requested to give sublime 
permission. A reluctant half-consent was the growling 
response ; the ibis was too ambitious. 

The beaver climbed nimbly over the first obstacle of 
stork hostility, and proceeded to build a port for the ships 
that must bring machinery and food. 

"The water is too shallow for a barge to float," grum- 
bled the assistants. 

" Build breakwaters on either side of the harbor to 
deepen the enclosure," replied the beaver. 

" Heavy machinery and provisions must be landed before 
that can be accomplished," again grumbled the assistants. 

" Make an island at the limit where ships can approach, 
erect cranes, and transship the imports into lighters which 
can convey them to the beach," replied the undaunted beaver. 

" To bring stone for the breakwaters from a distance will 
not only be a great expense, but occasion delay," grumbled 
the assistants a third time. 

" Make our own stone, of sand mingled with lime, and 
moulded into blocks, which this good sun will bake for us 
to the firmness of granite," said the beaver. 

So they dug, and bored, and burrowed perseveringl)', 



Travels of an American Owl. 155 

aided by giant machinery that hewed its way along with 
arms of iron and sinews of steel, while the ibis subjects, 
guided by inuid, swarmed everywhere like busy insects, 
until the beaver's track became visible in the sand. The 
earth permitted him to furrow her broad countenance with 
his little drills and pigmy wounds, but opposition met him 
at every turn. Every impediment was thrust in his way, 
yet only one foe could effectually check his progress — 
death. Enemies hurled arrows and javelins of ridicule at 
him (secretly uneasy at his success), and friends thrust him 
with needle -pricks of doubt and disappointment. Instead 
of " I hope you may succeed," or " Persevere in the effort 
at all hazards," it was a ready, premature, " You cannot 
do it." 

" J'ai pour principe de commencer par avoir la confiance," 
he said, calmly. 

Sometimes a lion placed a rock in his path ; the lion was 
entirely averse to any modern improvements in which he 
had no paw. Sometimes a scientific bear threatened to 
crush him under an avalanche of argument. The beaver 
either scrambled over the first rock, or glided adroitly 
around it, and arose with elastic ease from the pressure of 
scientific brick-bats. 

Unconquerable and uncrushable ! The traits becoming 
more apparent daily, the stork clapped his beak angrily 
and crashed down the largest rock of all. The beaver 



156 Travels of an American Owl. 

measured the formidable barrier with his eye, wellnigh 
despairing, for he could not climb it. 

This was the rock : " Drive away the infidels and with- 
draw your laborers. Am I to have my servants greater 
than myself?" 

The ibis had to eat humble pie and obey. The brains 
of any other than ibis workmen would fry in such a sun. 
The beaver turned to his protector, Vulcan III., and that great 
bird smiled reassuringly ; laid a gentle claw on the stork's 
arm, asking, in the most friendly way possible, had he not 
better^ in reason, remove the rock. The stork was obtuse, 
yet he was able to see his duty very plainly after that, and 
the beaver dug on his way rejoicing. 

With no less success did he conquer nature and make the 
dreary waste of sand bloom like the rose, by means of fre- 
quent watercourses to moisten the parched soil. 

He stood on the pier surveying his completed labor, for 
which he had toiled so many years. 

A broad artificial river flowed along, linking together a 
chain of lakes, and where the desert had so recently held 
undisputed sway, fish skimmed past merrily on exploring 
expeditions, ships floated, and small native boats with 
clumsy sails loitered from shore to shore. Myriads of 
donkeys and camels had toiled patiently under heavy 
burdens, with ibis workers in blue robes and red caps, dig- 
ging, resting in soft holes of the banks, saying their pray- 



Travels of an American Owl. 157 

ers — like good birds — bowing their heads devoutly, wholly 
unmindful of the bustle about them to accomplish this end. 

Two hundred and eighty monsters, equal in strength to 
thousands of horses, had devoured fire, then breathed forth 
flame and steam -clouds, excavating, dredging, polishing 
into symmetry for the blue waves to follow step by step in 
their wake. 

A prosperous town of the beaver's own rearing had 
grown out of the desolate waste, boasting handsome villas, 
a public square shaded by numerous trees, a broad boule- 
vard, gardens draped in luxuriant yines with the purple 
bloom of pendent grape-clusters visible among the leaves ; 
and the golden tints of oranges mingling with every variety 
of tropical plant. The receding waves of barbaric natives 
still fringed the palace, in ragged turbans and brass -bound 
face - coverings, their shrill cries mingling with the more 
refined influences of music and modern salons. 

How the trumpet of praise rang out in pealing notes 
through space, exalting the beaver to the skies! 

How sure everybody was that the enterprise must succeed, 
except the lion, who still liked to think that the soil would 
crumble in, or something dreadful happen. 

The loyal beaver's dream of glory was realized when the 
bird -of- paradise appeared to crown his success with the 
appropation of her presence. 

Progress again ! Behold the fanatic host gathered in a 



1 5 8 Travels of an American Owl. 

vast multitude, whose forefathers liad raised the crescent 
triumphantly aloft and always trampled on the cross, listen- 
ing patiently to the smooth calm voice of the cardinal bird 
blessing the new river solemnly, congratulating the world 
on its success, praising the enlightened ibis for aiding the 
magnificent work, praised the beaver for his exertions, 
praised the bird -of- paradise for her presence there, even 
delicately commending the tolerance of the listening throng 
in these later times. The ibis tribes expressed approval, 
instead of rising in a mighty sea of wrath to crush the holy 
preacher, and frantic howling birds among them, who tor- 
tured their emaciated frames in agonies and frenzies of 
religious fervor, thought that affairs were changed indeed. 

The bird-of-paradise led the triumj^hal procession through 
the watery gateway, followed by boats of the golden eagle, 
the dragon bird, the northern bear, all bristling with guns 
and dressed in their best, and sailed from sea to sea. 

The labor was done, and nations eyed each other askance, 
wondering how they could make money out of it. 

While they were thus pondering, the golden eagle sent 
peddler birds skurrying away to the far east with samples 
of his wares, to inform them glibly that their orders would 
receive prompt attention, and the prices be most reasonable 
if left at the mouth of the Danube. 

"The early bird catches the worm," and the eagle was 
abroad at dawn to prepare for the tide of wealth when it 



Travels of an American Ozvl. 159 

flowed from remote sources. The American owl was pres- 
ent, of course. Although not an invited guest of the 
great ibis, he steamed along the canal with the best. Tib 
mingled with the current of Oriental life with tremendous 
ardor — and very soon wearied of it. He clung to the 
pyramidal backs of dromedaries ; he wore green spectacles 
and a fanciful band of linen wound about his hat, with 
streaming ends fluttering behind, and jolted over rough 
roads on prancing donkeys, that perseveringly butted against 
every obstacle they met, often exasperating stately camels 
into craning forward long necks to give the rider a playful 
or vengeful nip. 

He was dragged to the summit of some famous tombs 
by shrieking, clamorous ibis savages of brazen mien, who 
extorted money from him at every step, and threatened to 
pitch him over the brink if he refused to grant their modest 
requests. 

He sipped perfumed snow and liquid sweetmeats until 
he experienced a curious twist in his internal arrangements, 
which was not without a degree of glory, after all, as it 
enabled him ever after to revert to the time " when he had 
the cholera in Fairo," with the same pride that many other 
birds experience in attributing any malady during the rest 
of their natural lives, to the "malaria-fever" of the Cardinal- 
Bird City, a sure proof that they have been there. 

The bird-of-paradise flew westward, her pinions glittering 



i6o Travels of an American Owl. 

with rich gifts, her mission accomphshed. The ibis rested 
from his labors, exhausted and prostrated by unusual exer- 
tion, yet soothed by the consoling reflection that he had 
"outdone" the stork. 

The vulcan added another jewel to the diadem of his 
reign, in the completion of one of the great wonders of the 
age, fostered to maturity by his powerful patronage. 





The Return ; lilarries ths Goose Lady. 



CHAPTER XII. 



THE OWL RETURNS HOME OVER THE TERRIFIC RAILROAD. 




HE owl had been everywhere, and seen many 
rare spectacles, when, at the expiration of several 
years, he turned his face westward once more. 
He returned home solely because there was nothing more 
for him to learn — he had become as wise as an owl can 
be. 

He had entered the granite portals of grand solitudes, 
where long narrow valleys, clothed in emerald green, 
spread away in far-reaching vistas, between stately moun- 
tains, pine girt and hoary, their sides fissured and terraced 
with the tempests of countless winters, their peaks veiled 
in soft masses of clouds. The morning mists melted in 
transparent rifts before the sun's first rays, in the pure at- 
mosphere of such high latitudes; the rosy flush tinging 
columns of basalt, granite, and sandstone, smooth rounded 
bowlders, steep precipices descending into shadowy chasms, 
depth below depth of impenetrable gloom ; or lighting 
II V i6i 



1 62 Travels of an Ajnericaji Owl. 

rugged, beetling crag and cliff, where slender threads of 
cascade leaped from rock to rock, flowing in a crystal 
stream through sheltered gorges and glens of this stern 
wilderness. He had lingered in villages perched on hill- 
sides, embowered in a luxuriant wealth of verdure, olive- 
trees heavy with the burden of rich brown fruit, corn wav- 
ing in every nook, tulips and jasmine mingling the sweet 
perfumes of snowy blossoms, cork-trees twisted into fan- 
tastic forms, with delicate fern fronds draping the large 
trunks, and mistletoe festooning the branches contrasted 
with stiff aloes. 

Convents crowned the undulating hills, girdled by 
meadows blooming with flowers of every hue, and orchards 
bearing golden, crimson, and purple fruits, all interlaced 
with vines drooping beneath the weight of delicious 
clusters. 

To the peaceful stillness of such sylvan retreats, where 
the shepherd dozed away existence in the shade, contented 
in the possession of a morsel of bread, a bunch of grapes, 
a cigaretto, a flask of Montilla, and a guitar, did the 
American owl turn his steps, blase from the elegant dissi- 
pations of cities, watching the graceful evolutions, the light 
airy motion, the ease in alternate windings or giddy maze 
of fair native birds dancing in the evening twilight to the 
tinkle of simple strains beneath the spreading trees of their 
homes. 



Travels of an American Owl. jg^ 

He had tried to break his neck after the most approved 
methods in Skitzerland, by chnging to icy pinnacle, slipping 
on the brink of yawning gulfs, where a false step would inev- 
itably hurl him down to a marble death amidst the dazzling 
magnificence, the halls of emerald and transparent blue of 
the frost-realm; braving the crashing avalanche -torrents 
of awful solitudes wrapped in mantles of eternal snow 
Everywhere he found the Saxon tourist venturing where 
he dared not go, mocking danger, laughing in the face of 
the King of Terrors, trusting to his own strong limbs re- 
velling in treading the brink of perpetual peril, and shoot- 
mg into infinite space sometimes. These would no longer 
throng the land if a road was smoothed, a path straight- 
ened. Better to manufacture artificial glaciers and erect 
barriers of picturesque effect, than to make the way so easy 
that these singular strangers would not need to clamber 
and scamper, and toil, yielding in return for the pleasure' 
much gold. ' 

He had endeavored to drive Papa Owl to the verge of 
bankruptcy, amidst the glittering temptations of fashion- 
able baths to which birds flocked from every quarter of 
the globe -birds of dilapidated fortunes striving to mend 
them by the revolution of a spinning ball ; birds with such 
monotonously heavy money-bags that they relished the 
variety of reverses, not to sip the mineral waters, or to ram- 
ble in beautiful parks of stately trees, but to hasten like 



164 Travels of an American Owl. 

blind devotees to a handsome building lavishly decorated 
in gilded saloon and corridors — the great Curse-all — where 
birds - of- prey hovered, alert and keen, where young faces 
grew old, and smooth features became pinched with haggard 
anxiety, all eyes fixed absorbingly on the fascinations of 
the tapis vert, as the pitiless balance poised fortune for one, 
ruin for another. 

Over these racks of torture presided calm, business-like, 
horrible spiders, who had spread their cunning webs and 
decked them with tawdry glints of color and bits of glass 
to entrap the unwary, then gloated over their victims, know- 
ing that the last drop of life's blood would surely flow into 
their coffers. 

He had visited those remote provinces where the weak, 
effeminate potentates sit in their card - house palaces of 
polished chunam, painted in curious designs of fruits and 
animals, and carved teak-wood verandas, amused with the 
childish baubles of a shadowy authority which permits 
them to indulge in cruel caprices toward their subjects, of 
dragging them at the heels of elephants, for petty offences ; 
to chain tigers with embroidered collars — feebly envious 
of beasts that can hold their own in the jungle ; to mould 
solid silver guns of no earthly use, except to have admiring 
subjects worship them and offer floral tributes ; to perfume 
their stern conquerors with attar-of- rose and scented waters, 
tempting the appetite with delicate fruits, aromatic, pungent 



Travels of an Americatt Owl. 165 

nuts, lime -spread leaves, when for some naughty trick of 
passionate revenge they seem inclined to wrest away the 
rule of poppy, rice, and cotton-fields from the lawful sov- 
ereign, even depriving him of the pleasure of nagging the 
inhabitants of his densely populated, dirty, ill-paved native 
city, blocked with gates where lounge ragged soldiery. 

The owl, possessed by the spirit of perpetual motion, no 
longer surprised into ecstasies of admiration at novel spec- 
tacles, or dismayed at unexpected inconveniences, drifted to 
the brink of a sacred river so ancient that the separate drops 
flowing between two shores would scarcely serve to count 
for years since the stream first issued from its cradle, bear- 
ing the ashes of passing generations on its bosom down to 
the sea. 

On the opposite bank, in a dazzling atmosphere that 
softened plaster and whitewash into a semblance of marble, 
with every imperfection of decay or neglect mellowed by 
the intervening space, rose a city of fabulous splendor. 
Along the water-line a fringe of bronze-limbed forms laved 
in the holy waters to cleanse from past sins, flights of broad 
stone steps led upward from the river's edge with gaudy- 
clad shadows mingling in changing colors, slender towers 
encircled by miniature turrets and gilded spires rose above 
the roofs, cupolas crowned mosques like glittering bubbles, 
graceful columns shot to airy heights against the blue sky, 
and ruins toppled, whose worn walls were screened by a 



1 66 Travels of an American Owl. 

mantle of tender green vines. There were dark cool streets 
sheltered by lofty houses from the fierce sun -rays, where 
mules and sober elephants wended their way along ; in the 
narrow cells of shops were workers in gold cloth, weaving 
caps of rich embroidery ; carvers of idols, dealers in pre- 
cious stones ; the temples abounded in elaborate carving, 
screens of lace-work tracery, tombs of silver and rare mai- 
bles; but to cross the river was to rob the picture of the hazy 
tints of distance in actual contact with repulsive reality. 

These birds knew nothing of the American owl. They 
not only existed without any knowledge of his country, 
but seemed to scorn the simplicity of republican institutions 
if they were explained to them. 

The earth is spread out on a flat plate, and if one is 
blessed by being located in the exact centre of the dish, 
over Shiva's trident, what matters the condition of those 
nations pushed to the extreme verge of the rim, by fate ? 

At last Tib reached the Guinea -Pig Empire, famous for 
pagodas and a certain fragrant plant dear to the hearts of 
venerable lady birds. 

If the structure of Tib's local vanity was not already 
demolished by severe thrusts received, the superb superior- 
ity of the guinea-pigs must have inevitably razed the temple 
to the ground. 

Intrenched in the tradition of hoary ages, and still a power- 
ful kingdom after a tide of savage invading wolves had 



Travels of an American Otvl. 167 

leaped over the boundary walls from the arid steppes of the 
north, the guinea-pigs had profound faith in their maturity, 
and that nobody could teach them anything new. They 
built their houses in the queer form of a tent, as their 
remotest ancestor had done ; each might strive for the 
prize of a button ; they expended whole lives in dwarfing 
stately trees to painful distortions of growth ; they called 
all foreign birds dogs, red-haired infidels, and other pretty 
names. They dreaded the heavy guns of these infidels, all 
the same. 

Of course they informed Tib that their empire was the 
exact centre of the universe, but then he had heard that so 
often before that he was growing accustomed to the state- 
ment. The blackbird believed in the Doughnut Coast until 
death; the butterflies listened with charming patience to 
any contrary statement, then glided back to an original 
stand-point of devotion to the City of Amusement ; the 
flamingoes laughed to scorn the idea of any other metro- 
polis besides Fogdom being worthy of the name ; the lan- 
guid peacocks pitied the inhabitants of those capitals where 
a bird was obliged to use his own legs occasionally instead 
of sailing through calm canals. The guinea-pigs did not 
make the slightest attempt to conceal the low estimate in 
which they held Tib ; they even dubbed his race " Saxons 
number two." This was in part due to the owl's not wear- 
ing robes of yellow satin, embroidered with dragons, or the 



1 68 Ti'avcls of an American Ozvl. 

stylish uniforms befrogged and epauletted of other foreign- 
ers, and in part to the fact of Tib's representative not being 
allowed sufficient pocket-money to make the same flourish 
of trumpets as others, which alone could blow away the 
cloud of guinea-pig distrust and dislike. 

" You teach us nothing," was their argument. " We 
weave rich silks ; we write books of many volumes because 
we have plenty of leisure ; the microscope alone can reveal 
all the beauty of our minute ingenious labor. Talk of your 
navigation ! We had the compass long before you were 
born, and could go to sea if we liked, only we don't like. 
Yes, and you plume yourselves finely on the art of printing, 
just as if we had not known about it since the Flood. 
We can make gunpowder, too, although we have as often 
blown up ourselves and singed our own pig -tails as our 
enemies." 

Doubtless this was an atmosphere in which the American 
owl's pinions must droop. To be despised by a short, 
squat guinea-pig, devoid of beauty, who lived, ate, drank, 
and had his being amid scenes of filth, who burned gilt 
rags of prayers before swinish idols, was calculated to take 
the wind out of one's sails. 

Said Tib, reflectively : 

" I think I will go home." 

Then he looked out on a vast ocean that held on its 
bosom chains of islands, with volcanic peaks and coral reefs 



Travels of an American Owl. 169 

fringed by cocoa-nut palms to the brink of transparent 
lagoons, islands fertile in soil, rich in spice-groves extend- 
ing from the shores of the great guinea-pig empire to his 
own remote home, each yielding its treasures to a hungry 
world and linked to sister isle, or some great continent of 
the globe, by darting shuttles of steamships, weaving to- 
gether drifting threads into a compact whole. Girdled by 
steam; clasped in iron bands. 

Could haughty guinea-pig isolation withstand those 
forces? 

Tib rather liked the weasels, those island neighbors of the 
guinea-pigs, who bowed themselves into the likeness of tur- 
tles, with only a square of back visible, as a mark of polite- 
ness. Clever and shrewd, they delighted in deceiving and 
bewildering intrusive strangers by false statements, — they 
regretted that the rest of creation should be so shamefully 
backward in the requirements of civilization as not to ap- 
preciate the merits of harry-carry, yet they did not say as 
much about it as the blunt guinea-pigs would have done 
under the circumstances. The weasels cut off heads so 
neatly that one could not but admire their skill, acquired by 
long practice. Nor were they less remarkable in magic 
arts. The weasel juggler was to the plate-spinning, card- 
shuffling adept of modern lands what the agile monkey is 
to the elephant. If he swallowed a lighted brass pipe, 
washed it down with a cup of water, afterward breathing 

W 



170. Travels of a?t American Owl. 

forth volumes of smoke from the very pit of his stomach, 
apparently, then waved his fan quickly, and the pipe re-ap- 
peared in his mouth, still glowing , like a coal, a weasel 
audience yawned listlessly. If he poised eggs on a flat 
lacquered slab, and by an almost imperceptible oscillation 
caused one egg to waltz gracefully while the other remain- 
ed quiet, then a second to join in the dance, then a third, 
and a fourth, without the touch of hand or instrument, the 
weasels nodded a gentle approval at this perfection of 
dexterity. To excite any warmth of enthusiasm, however, 
the juggler must ascend the scales of wonders rapidly, bal- 
ancing poles on his nose which form only a foundation 
structure for boys, parasols, and whirling balls, must flutter 
from his fan troops of puppets, shadows of animals, and 
pirouette on the rim of lighted lanterns unscorched, with a 
wonderful quickness and grace of execution, until the 
audience smile benignantly when he crawls out of sight, 
like a fly, among the painted clouds of the ceiling. 

At length Tib was wafted to the shores of the West again. 

What glory to have entered a Golden Gate with the sails 
of his yacht inflated by the cold wind, icy from the breath 
of arctic peak, the raw, keen purity of lofty sierras, as he 
surveyed the scene, standing on the ivory decks ! 

Alas! that fame is only purchased at so high a price. 

The owl was obliged to take his place meekly among 
other passenger birds on a public steamship. 



Travels of an American Owl. 171 

The evening shadows shrouded the glittering track of 
waters, h'ghts flashed on the level piers, crested the hills 
with beacon rays of welcome, twinkled in an undulating 
line of valley, mirrored tiny boat and stately ship, slender 
bowsprit and heavy hull in the calm depths of the harbor. 

Everywhere gayety and brilliant illumination. 

The youngest daughter of the West had planted her 
standard on a smiling shore, the sea breaking at her feet in 
waves of wealth from the remote East, bringing dusky 
natives of the lands toward the rising sun to enrich barren, 
rocky wastes with patient Oriental care, and the mountains 
of the background, clasping her in their sheltering embrace, 
veined with the richest treasures of gold and silver. Across 
the intervening space dividing her from a former home 
thrilled the tidings of every hour with electric flash, and 
through the granite heart of nature's sternest wilderness 
extended smooth bands of iron uniting her with the whole 
world. 

The guinea-pig was there in advance of owl junior, boring 
industriously in abandoned mines, accepting the scraps and 
gleanings of every employment, soberly persistent in getting 
gain, and sending his bones back to the guinea-pig empire 
eventually. 

Tib, the traveller, surveyed the land, saw the gold spike, 
which fettered the completed labor to the brink of the sea, 
driven firmly in its appointed place amidst the acclamation 



1/2 Travels of an Americaji Owl. 

of glad multitudes, and stepping jauntily into a palace-car 
of the Terrific Railroad was whirled away. 

Such a famous ride ! 

Past villages and cities embowered among orchards and 
vineyards, the rose -bloom of oleanders, the clustering 
sweetness of heliotropes and fuchsias, luxuriant hedges of 
vivid scarlet, thickets of glossy-leaved plants, all mingling 
their aromatic perfumes in the sun's hot rays. 

Past narrow canons where smooth rivers danced .lightly 
along in search of green meadows and flower-fringed banks; 
hillsides honey-combed with the drills of miners eagerly 
tracing glittering threads, with wooden troughs of trickling 
water-rills marking the line of labor, and trains of laden 
mules wending their way along giddy ledges; lakes framed 
in rocky heights, crimson in the glories of sunset, with the 
purple twilight lurking around the base of cliffs, and spread- 
ing mellow tints over the harsh outlines of the hills. 

Stately mountains frowned down from inaccessible sum- 
mits, the clear atmosphere revealing each immense shadow- 
less dome in sharp distinctness, every rift and scar of time 
or tempest, disdainful of screening mist and softening dis- 
tance. Bald, severe, and magnificent, they opened the vista 
of gorges, precipices, crags, and ledges, untrodden, save by 
shy wild creatures, to curious eyes, and the shrill notes of 
steam rang and echoed from peak to peak, all nature quiv- 
ering in sudden terror, disturbing the unbroken silence of 



Travels of an American Owl. 173 

centuries. Forests of pines, firs, and balsams, swaying their 
plumes and tassels in the boisterous frolic of the wind, 
merged into plains of wormwood and sage, belts of azure 
flowers, and oceans of billowing grass where shadows dim- 
pled the level surface. 

Progress startled the sober buffalo in the peaceful retreat 
of pasture lands. Progress drove the humble little prairie- 
dog and rattlesnakes from ancestral halls, caused the timid 
antelope to flee before its noisy life, while the lord of the 
soil welcomed it with derisive war-whoop of scornful in- 
difference. 

Oh, it was glorious! 

The owl flew on through miles and leagues of space, 
with quickened pulse answering in responsive throb to the 
congenial energy of home influences again. 

Not that he intended ever to be anything but a foreigner 
in his native land, after all he had learned abroad. Dear, no! 
Still he was conscious of a glowing enthusiasm, a sense of 
exultation to be spinning along at such a rate of speed over 
a railroad which formed one of the wonders of his age. 
Next to flying, buoyed up by airy pinions, to travel on the 
Terrific Railroad was the most exhilarating sensation to 
Young America. 

To plunge, with a diabolical shriek of locomotive, into 
the obscurity of long wooden tunnels nailed securely to the 
mountain-side, and rush at a galloping, tearing pace through 



174 Travels of an American Owl, 

the shed, boxed to all intents and purposes, with a pleasing 
uncertainty existing whether the other extremity may be 
in flames, kindled by floating sparks, or the lord of the 
soil's torch of savage hatred, or not, excites the nerves 
agreeably. 

To glide and twine around curves in the darkness of night, 
facing terrible phantoms in the obscurity, grinning lords of 
the soil again, perhaps an opposing steam monster with its 
guardian nodding drowsily preparatory to the sleep of 
eternity in store, which might send one bounding down 
sheer granite walls thousands of feet, keeps a traveller's 
imagination active. 

The young owl enjoyed it, revelled in the sense of danger, 
would have liked to sit on the roof to serve as a target for 
a stray bullet, a whistling arrow, or ride on the engine, so as 
literally to be " in at the death ! " 

The first welcome Tib received when he entered the City 
of the Future was from the goose father, who called him 
" my dear fellow," and " my young friend." 

Tib was unmoved by these blandishments. He felt grati- 
fied, and acknowledged this gratitude by an additional 
swagger of manner, and he fully intended to turn the goose 
father's condescension to good account; yet he was not the 
same bird he had been when he sailed in the fairy yacht — 
he had grown several inches in importance, and appreciated 
his own worth. 



Travels of an American Owl. 175 

Incidentally the goose father alluded to an acquaintance 
existing between Tib and his daughter Tilly-Lilly. 

Incidentally Tib ascertained that she was still Miss Tilly- 
Lilly, and having acquired this amount of information, he 
maintained a masterly inactivity. 

This course made the goose father uneasy and alarmed. 
He bitterly regretted his daughter's folly in snubbing the 
prosperous owl while pursuing the shadow of a cardinal 
bird, and there were certain furrows on the smooth coun- 
tenance of the great goose induced by the reckless extrav- 
agance of the goose son and heir. He had felt assured that 
a bland cordiality of welcome would encourage the owl to 
bridge the terrible chasm separating their respective grades 
of society, and instead Tib showed a frightful tendency to 
wink one eye and remark : 

" With money I can take my choice. Perhaps Tilly-Lilly 
has faded since I saw her." 

The goose father turned green at the idea, and bade Tilly- 
Lilly to dress becomingly when the owl called. 

The owl family found their darling boy very much im- 
proved indeed — so improved that he could find nothing in 
the old home nest sufficiently good for his fastidious and 
enlightened taste. 

He advised Papa Owl to take toast and tea, or a cup of 
coffee for breakfast, instead of eating a heavy meal that 
might give an ostrich indigestion. This was sound advice, 



176 Travels of a7t American Owl. 

but the choleric old bird, although sinking under the infir- 
mities of years, bade him " go to the devil," with a spark of 
former spirit. 

He criticized the Miss Owls' accent, desired them to eat 
less pastry and take more exercise, snubbed them if they 
expressed an opinion on the most trivial matter, and soon 
established the fact that never a bird in the nest knew any- 
thing besides himself. It was agreeable to his feelings to 
be able to retaliate upon his family for foreign indifference 
and ignorance of his nationality, in much the same spirit 
that each successive grade of officer snubs an inferior, if the 
captain of a man-of-war rises in an ill-humor to scold the 
lieutenant, until the whole spleen is vented in the kick which 
the midshipman bestows upon the sailor. 

The mother owl, firm in her adoration of the graceless 
owlet, drifted into the wildest mazes of cookery, helplessly 
bewildered, yet never suiting his epicurean palate, while all 
the pepper in the culinary department got into the cook's 
temper, producing frequent explosions and dismissals. 

The star of the owl race was in the ascendant. Tib's 
insolence and assurance carried him to lofty heights where 
good Papa Owl had never climbed. 

His dear friend, the butterfly vicomte, came across the 
ocean to visit him, with playful and graceful effusions of 
affection. 

These attentions the vicomte speedily transferred to the 



Travels of an American Owl. 177 

prettiest owl daughter, (that having been his original inten- 
'tion in making Tib's acquaintance,) and she departed accord- 
ingly in great state and glory to dwell in the City of 
Amusements. She adapted herself to her new mode of life 
with the same facility which had characterized her brother. 
No one would have recognized in Madame la Vicomtesse 
Papillon, with her fashionable indifference to home-life, her 
devotion to dress, her polite frigidity to monsieur when she 
happened to meet him, as he airily pursued his pleasures 
while she chose her own, a plain American bird. 

Nor was the other Miss Owl less successful in her way, 
for she purchased a handsome turkey of high connection, 
and devoted her energies to dressing him prettily, giving 
him plenty of pocket-money to spend on his little amuse- 
ments at the club. The turkey would have risen to brilliant 
eminence in the study of law, if she had allowed him to tax 
his precious brains ; but she preferred that he should serve 
as a beautiful walking-stick to support her footsteps through 
life. 

Papa Owl offered Tib the fashionable nest, and the son 
consented to occupy the site, but the nest must be pulled 
down — not a stone of it would answer — and another 
erected. This last shock of astonishment finished the old 
bird ; he was gathered to his fathers, and Tib reigned in his 
place. 

So the new nest was built by a butterfly architect, of the 
12 X 



178 Travels of an American Owl. 

rarest woods and the costliest marbles, and all the town 
came to gaze admiringly at the gems of art with which Tib 
adorned it. Yes, it was superb in its chaste simplicity, and 
evinced much better taste than Papa Owl's nest, which had 
been gaudy with excess of rich hues ; the ignorant old bird 
having supposed that carpets soft to the foot and colors gay 
to the eye embodied luxurious wealth. There was another 
cause of satisfaction in the young owl's residence : it cost 
as much as it possibly could, and all the world knew it. 

Who presides over the splendid establishment, gathering 
the ribbons firmly in her dainty fingers and guiding the 
glittering chariot of fashion as its acknowledged leader? 
Who but the lovely Tilly-Lilly, with the pensive melancholy 
of disappointment occasionally heightening her charms, as 
the dream of ambition and Princess Bobiolanciotti faded. 

Who smiles approval on son-in-law Tib, with all his vul- 
garity, and tells the romantic little tale of the two young 
people meeting first in foreign lands, just as if the polite 
listener could not peep behind the mask, smile at the hollow, 
elf-queen shell of appearances ? Who but the courteous 
goose father, with those curious little lines traced on his fine 
face by the sharp chisel of care? 

Tib has no employment, the old owl having grubbed to- 
gether sufficent money, and views superciliously those 
humble birds who drudge for daily bread, with a contempt 
sadly out of place in the lineal descendant of a mouse 



Travels of an American Owl. 



1 79 



caterer. He has no intellectual amusements or refined 
tastes. He has none of the nerve and energy which has 
united his country into a compact whole — he will drift with 
the current wherever it may lead, and never battle against 
it. He is a weak copy of others ; and while a desire to 
introduce the beauty and polish of older nations to a new 
community is always commendable, he cultivates traits that 
can never assimilate with his native soil. 

His principal energies are devoted to bowing in the dust 
before diplomatic and distinguished foreigners, who drink 
his wine, accept his hospitality, then ridicule his pretensions. 
However well calculated to adorn society, the American owl 
will never be a hero, and his like are many in the land. 




CROSSING THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 



